


Love

by Lisamilles



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, Adult Hermione Granger, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Borgin and Burkes (Harry Potter), F/M, Manipulative Relationship, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Oral Sex, POV Tom Riddle, Possessive Tom Riddle, Post-Hogwarts, Rough Sex, Stalker Tom Riddle, Time Travel, Tom Riddle Needs a Hug, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26285512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisamilles/pseuds/Lisamilles
Summary: An encounter with a feisty muggleborn witch develops into an obsession. Is it simply obsession or is there more laying beneath the surface that is Tom Riddle?l Fanfiction inspired by the Netflix show You.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 89
Kudos: 339





	1. Prologue

One particular morning in 1945, young Tom Marvolo Riddle was organising a collection of cursed rings Mr Burkes had set upon him.

He murmurs in his mind, plastering a sticker wandlessly onto the panel: _Warning: do not touch. Rings of Diana to-date have killed 17 of its muggle owners._

That day had been boring, a copy of every other hour spent in the shop of cursed objects. Eight people had come that day. Two old hags. A few scraggly wizards, the model depiction of a Knockturn Alley dweller. Tom could not wait to be back in his own apartment and getting to his urgent research work with a puff and whiskey.

Suddenly, the door hits against the familiar chimes. His attention diverts. It's someone. A woman. She walks in. He could sense her magic. It's... alluring.

He breaths in.

_Well, hello there._

_Who are you?_

Tom thought to himself, as he watches the girl peer through a glass cabinet. His eyes gazed at her.

_That skirt._ He thinks, keeping a blank expression on his face. His palms brush roughly against the wooden surface of the shelf. _You like a bit of attention, don't you?_

She saunters through the shop, unknowing of the pair of eyes and feet following her.

_Based on your lack of stockings, you are a young woman, attempting your phase into womanhood by going against societal dress codes._

He bites his lip.

_Your head moves. Your bushy curls sway._

_You look at the leering masks on the wall. From Greece . Just acquired them from Mr Willisby, two days ago.Your eyes seem to narrow at them as if to confront their attention. Their leers seem to deepen at your presence._

_Then your neck snaps to the far right. Your attention is absorbed in titles. Their moleskins to fur-bind covers entice you._

Tom cocked his head, a small smile forming. _Now. Hmm...you're not the standard bibliophile. Hunting for tirelessly vanilla books by Bathilda Bagshot. You like THE TIDE: GUIDE TO UNRAVELLING THE DARK ARTS. Those dainty fingers scuffing against a rune book:POTIUS FRUCTUM DEDUCERE EX SEXUS._

He fought back a laugh. _Based on your book choices, you consider yourself intelligent amongst your peers. You like to explore the vastness of the magical world. You don't judge. You read everything that you come upon. Be it text or human._

_Who will you buy?_

_" Hello." You murmur your first word to me._

Tom finds the girl staring at him. 

_Your eyes are large, brown with specks of gold in them._

A gentle grin she wears.

_Pink. Plump. Perfect._

" Do you work here?"

" Guilty. Can I help you find something, Miss?" Tom gives her one of his charming smiles. Smiles he had crafted. One of his tricks.

She was oblivious, unaffected by the meaning behind the shape of those flawless lips.

" Henry Diggins's 1st edition magical oddities."

" It's a good choice." Tom grins.

The girl smiles, letting out a small laugh.

" Come with me." He motions her through a couple of towering shelves.

He flicks his wand, the thick book lands onto his waiting hands.

He passes the book to her. She smiles again.

The girl's neck bent down. Her blouse moves. Dusty pink peaks straining against the white material.

He noticed. _Oh. Are you not wearing a brassiere? And you want me to notice._

His gaze fell upon her face. Heart shape. High cheekbones. Well-shaped eyebrows. Big doe brown eyes that captured his very attention. A treasure.

She looks up,only to look into his dark blue eyes ,finding him staring at her.

" Is there something wrong?" _Your voice sounds apologetic. Sultry._ He thinks. _Talk more._

" No." He shakes his head, breaking off his reverie." Would you like to buy it, Miss...?"

" Granger. Hermione Granger." She said. " Yes, I would like to purchase it immediately."

_Granger._ The cogs in his brain start running. _Granger_.

As they make their way to the main counter, Tom asks. “ Where did you hear of this book, Miss Granger? A witch like you don’t usually wander into the territory of blood rituals.”

She chuckles.” And Mister, are you going to tell me that it’s safer to stick to safe classics like Witch Weekly? Pendragon methods definitely sound more appealing than tips on dating advice to me. Do you?”

Tom laughs.” An epidemic for most witches these days but for you Miss? If thrill is what you are searching for, the Dark Arts is your answer. Forget the classics. “

The bushy witch smiles at him. “ That’s a high endorsement. You seem strangely experienced.”

“ Well I am a clerk working in Knockturn Alley.” He says.” A salesman has to know his products well.”

“ A convincing one, I may add.” Hermione said. “ I think I would to like to pick a few more books please.”

He grins and follows after her.

They were at the main counter.

Tom falls onto autopilot. He is thinking about her. The pretty witch standing in front of him. She seemed nice. Intelligent. A rarity amongst the witches that chased after him. However he had not known a wizarding family that had the name of ‘ Granger’. Was she one of them? The scum he had so despised of?

She passed him the sack of galleons. His eyes fall upon the golden galleons as he counts them mechanically. He thinks once more.

" Sorry to be a busy body. But Miss, do you happen to be related to the Dagworth Grangers?" He asks.

The brunette stifles a laugh." Merlin, I wish! To be related to Hector Dagworth Granger- unfortunately I'm not."

His heart dropped at that. _You must be a muggle-born then. A mudblood._

Tom's fists curled and unfolded. A voice sounded in his head. _Had you ever met someone like her? Knowledgeable. Beautiful. Feisty. Imagine how she would scream in your sheets--_

It echoed as he wrapped the packaging around it.

" Here you go." He passes her the books, their fingers brush against each other. She moves them back, a small tint of red appearing on her freckled skin. He feels strangely warm.

" Thank you... how rude of me- what's your name, Mister ?" The girl questions. “ This was truthfully a great purchase with your help.”

His lips move. " Tom Riddle."

Her entire facial expression changed from content to horror and back to being pleasant. He raises an eyebrow. 

She fought to keep a grin on her face."Yes, thank you... Mr Riddle. Tom. Your assistance has been invaluable to me."

"Goodbye." Then she is off, her foot pace quickens. She is eager to leave his presence.

Tom thinks to himself. _How strange. Most girls would have asked for more._

He watches the witch’s hasty movements through the window. 

_But you aren't most girls, aren't you?_

_You are something more. An enigma._

_Though you are a mudblood, I can sense the power you behold._

_That aura surrounding you._

_It's different. I can smell it._

_I want to know you._

_Feel you against me._

_Minutes ago, I would have run my fingers through your bushy hair. Rip off that blouse off you. Latch my lips onto that ripe hard pink nipple of yours. Pull up your skirt. Part your knickers. Take you there against the shelf. A rough rut - if you hadn't moved those red lips of yours._

_You are really something, Hermione Granger._

_Hermione._

_Her- my-oh-knee._

_I will find out more about you, after work._

_I promise you._

_You are mine._

_I want you._

_And you- will feel the same for me too._

_I promise._

_I promise._

_You._

  
  
  
  



	2. A Fresh Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In conclusion, I am a clown and I really should be revising my school work. BTW I made a mood board for this fic too, yay. Let me know what you think about it. Thank you for the kudos and reviews. I appreciate your support a lot. Anyways, leave a review if you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> Here's a song which I listened to when I writing this chapter: I wanna be yours by the arctic monkeys.
> 
> XX Annalisa

_Hermione Granger._

_People believe in 'the one'. Do you believe in that?_

_Over the last two weeks, ever since we have first met - I have spent some time finding more about you. As ironic as it sounds, there is nothing about you I could find._

_You see, I have gone through the Ministry's records. Impersonating officers through glamour charms, obliviating them or simply using an ' imperio'. I tried all of my to go options._

_What I found was that there were no records of a 'Hermione Granger.' No record at all. No Gringotts account. No parents. No school traces. No birthdate._

_Not an American. I doubt that based on your distinctive London accent. Besides, I have also made a trip to New York. Just for you. I found that Ilvermony had no such student named Hermione Granger._

_Hogwarts was a straight no. I knew every student from the school till the moment I left. You appear to be a fresh graduate- so we must have been in the same year._

_Beauxbatons- another trouble I had to go through, dear. Paris was surprisingly chilly during this time of the year. Again, no student named Hermione Granger._

_I wonder why._

_Were you ever Hermione? Do you even exist, Hermione Granger? I believe it is your name. Hermione. Daughter of Helen of Troy. Queen of Sicily._

_Since I could not discover much about your background except for the fact of your parentage- I have decided to find out more about your current life. I had to make sure you were safe and sound._

_A simple modified point-me spell led me to a comfortable flat located in South East England. 56 Evans Street, Little Whinging, Surrey. The first floor. #1-02 to be exact._

_You have a set morning routine. At 5.15am, you get out of bed to make your breakfast tea. Chamomile if you're feeling stressed. Earl grey if you want a little pick me up. Usually you would finish breakfast at precisely 7am. Shower by 7.30. Leave your flat at 7.50._

_I wait for you to apparate. I make my move._

_Your flat is warded. Not a problem- I went through them with a breeze within minutes and you wouldn't even feel them being intruded._

_I step into your flat. A routine I have found familiar. There are stacks of books. Many on transfiguration, potions, runes and the Dark Arts._

Tom breaths in. He smiles.

_Jasmine. Lilies. I remember. The faint scent of rosemary from your hair._

_The furniture is shabby, slightly old. You don't mind it._

His fingers approach the tattered cotton of the couch.

Something catches his eye. Black lace draped over the wooden chair.

Tom's mind was in a trance. His mind was occupied with the one memory repeating in his head from the week before.

He had finished work and had made a commitment to stop by Hermione's apartment every night. Those blue curtains had always been open, revealing the many insights into the happenings of Hermione’s activities. He had peeked into it.

My, was it a good decision he made.

She was not wearing stockings, once more( thank salazar). Her shapely toned legs stepping out of those atrociously short skirts she wears. He catches a full glimpse of her red knickers. He swallows hard. Then she had proceeded to take off that black blouse of hers, revealing perfect, firm breasts, heavy in a matching bra. Nipples that were pebbled due to their recent exposure to the cold air. Something stirs in his loins.

He sees her lascivious grin and the bite on her lip.

She does not notice him at all. Instead, she turns around to Tom's delight. The red lace covering her firm arse. He had to stop himself from breaking through the window at that moment.

Her arse wiggles. He hears her soft giggle. Tom chuckled to himself. _You really are a treat, Hermione._

The brunette pulls a grey dress over her. It was disappointing. Conservative. A disaster. The tent in his trousers was not going away though.

The memory ends, his nose brushes against the lace. He fingers it. _You smell sweet like honey. Exactly how I imagined._

His fingers pocket the lace and he continues wandering cheerily through her flat.

_I found a half written letter to Albus Dumbledore on your desk. You know him, Hermione? The meddlesome old fool?_

Tom reads.

**_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_ **

He rolls his eyes.

**_I am Hermione Granger._ **

Her name is real.

**_I am writing to discuss_____ **

There, that was all she had written.

 _Hermione, what exactly are you after from Dumbledore?_ Tom thinks as he leaves her flat, not before attempting to read all of the documents that laid on her table.

_You work as a freelance runes translator. People pay decently. I wonder why you would not have chosen a job as a Curse breaker at Gringotts. From your translations I have read, I believe you could do so much better than having an old client looking up your skirt. Let's just say John Mc Cellan found himself in St Mungos the next day with profusely bleeding eyes. Anyway, the point is Hermione- why are you letting yourself be like this? Your job is a block. You can do better. Hermione._

_That also applies to your boyfriend. To be frank, Galton Scamander? Oh salazar, of all wizards._

_Did you know the other day while I was going through my searches in the ministry, I had found him snogging Isabella Greengrass in the middle of the hallway? And yes you noticed- but you did not do a single thing to solve the problem. You let it pass._

Tom was at the window.

" I'm so sorry, Hermione."

_Galton tells that to girls every time, trust me Hermione._

" Galton--"

" I love you Hermione--"

_He barely knows you. He has been your boyfriend for two months. He doesn't even know your favourite colour is periwinkle._

"Please forgive me. I didn't mean to do it. Isabella spiked my coffee with amortentia--"

_No, you didn't, Galton. You kissed her out of your free will._

Galton Scammander then snogs her to resolve the situation.

Tom leaves, fists curled, eyebrows furrowed. If anyone had seen him at that point of time, his irises were completely red.

He had to leave before Galton started fucking her in front of his very eyes. Fucking the only thing that had mattered in his life at that moment.

_You can do better, Hermione. If he came anywhere of making you cum, I bet you would even tell me. But you didn't. Because he didn't._

Tom thinks to himself before sending a bombarda at a tree. He apparates away, leaving behind pieces of destroyed wood and a couple- he was determined to divide.

  
  


_During this week, I learnt more about your personality. You like reading. Your favourite book is Hogwarts A History- there are five copies of it on your table._

_You like cooking even though every night, I find you opening the window and letting the smoke waft out._

_You like experimenting with spells. I love the Avis Spell you have used on Mc Cellan the other day. I could feel the strength of your power easily from a few metres away._

_You love chocolates. The Scamander brat makes it a routine to leave behind a box of HONEYDUKES DARK CHOCOLATE 50% CACAO. Of which you toss it out when he leaves. You only eat milk chocolates._

_You hate being unproductive. You have a charmed planner to remind you of your overdue work when you have unfulfilling sex with the Scamander brat._

Tom whistles, hands in his front pockets of his coat, blowing warm mist in the air.He walks into the bar. He takes off his new hat. Orders a fire whiskey and sits at the back. He watches her closely.

_You were at the Leaky Cauldron._

_Piss drunk._

His eyes narrowed as she twirls her hair, smiling at a wizard, who looked old enough to be her father. 

_Joseph Prewett_ . Tom recognises him. _Works in the aurors' department._ He makes a note to himself. He will deal with him later.

The man returns her attention with a suggestive look and even kisses her on the cheek, caressing her back. Hermione continues chatting and rubbing her thumb against his arm. Eventually the man leaves, the brunette pouts. 

Tom shakes his head. 

_There you were, having that same look of disappointment. You cross your arms, pout those red lips of yours once more. You get up and leave._

_And I obliged._

It was after midnight , no women of her age would have dared to be out at such times. 

His figure was hurriedly dashing through the streets. 

For a drunkard, she was fast. He thought to himself.

Brown curls. Big doe eyes. Lovely smile--

He saw red when he arrived at the scene.

" What a pretty witch. Out here during the night." The man had a pudge, his legs thick as his head. " Wearin that thing you call a skirt, eh? Where is your pantyhose, girl?"

" Please." She had mouthed.

" Atkinson. Look at her tits!" The midget standing him tore at her blouse. Hermione gasps, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes." What beauties they are."

" Tonight, little girl. We will have fun. I promise you that." He leers at her, his fingers throwing his coat to the side. The men unbuckle their belts. Vallik lets his bulbous lips run all over her neck.

Tom appeared, his eyes completely red.

" We are going to have so much fun right now. I promise you that." A sinister glow appears on his face. The men fumble off the girl to grab their wands. They were too late.

" Immobolius." Oh how the tables have turned.

" Finite incantatem." He lifts the spell on her, Hermione shivers, stumbling away.

" Crucio." Tom drawls and says another silencing spell, his eyes looking in concern at her.

Hermione sat there, speechless as he continued his ministrations on the men.

_Sweetheart, they were fools to believe you were alone._

_I had to follow you, Hermione. A lone girl strolling out the surrounding alleys of Knockturn, especially at one am? I needed to assure myself by seeing you back at your flat, safe and sound. A man has to protect himself, you know?_

He murmurs spells even his most disobedient followers had not ever received. Spells that turned the men's insides to instant mush. Their screams were music to his ears. Tom had to stop the smile that was threatening to creep up onto his face. _Hermione is here_. He tells himself.

Then another light hit them, they were throwing up blood and their own watery remnants of organs. Bones were growing out of their bodies. Once the men had turned into a puddle of skin and blood. Tom ended the scene by transforming them into dung. He casts a notice-me-not spell in the area. 

He doubted anyone would miss them.

Tom looked at Hermione and approached her worriedly. She was staring at him. Shaken, half- drunk. She looked afraid. Her words came out,"I... "

_Tonight I was so glad I had followed you. If I wasn't there, where would you have been, Hermione?_

" Are you alright, Miss Granger? Now let's get you back home. Shall we?" He took off his thick coat and wrapped it over her quivering body. She nodded, sniffing and they went back to her flat, less than a minute later. His arm keeping her close to him.

_Like I said, I would protect you. I would give anything to ensure your safety. I have never felt this emotion in my life before. But it comes back to me when I am around you, Hermione. You are different. You are not just any witch. You are not just any mud blood. You are mine. And I would never let you go. I promise._

_And also Joseph Prewett? This is the last time you are ever going to see Hermione._

  
  



	3. The Last Nice Guy In Wizarding Britain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love Tom. Here's a song which I listened to while writing this chapter: What you need by the weeknd.( I'll probably make a Spotify playlist for this pic by the next few chapters)
> 
> Yes, the chapters are gonna get longer( I seriously need to increase my writing limits)!
> 
> Review and leave a kudo if you enjoyed this chapter!! It helps me improve this fic :) Also I made another mood board for this chapter :o

_You have friends, Hermione. Candidly, they are the least appealing thing about you._

_Lucretia Black. Walking textbook definition of a pureblood woman. Turned 20 years old recently. The only knowledge the girl holds is drinking expensive cocktails and holding extravagant parties to piss off Walburga, her cousin. Best known in her hogwart years for engaging in ' cocaine festivals' . I was surprised to find out she made it through graduation. More even so that she was friends with you._

_Isobel Mcgonagall. Halfblood. 28. Married to a muggle. Has a 10 year old daughter named Minerva. The woman strangely envies her own daughter . That should have been enough to turn you away, Hermione._

_And Elizaveta Kowalski. American. Half Blood. Heiress of her muggle father's confectionary business empire. Freshly graduated student from Ilvermony. Though the youngest of the group, she directs the flow of your friendship with your two friends. She is blunt. Wealthy. Influencial. I get your terms._

_This is where I come in, Hermione. I believe you are much better off without those friends of yours. They control you. They judge you. They even encouraged your stale relationship with the Scamander brat._

_Some of them hold influence. Yes but have they ever used it to help you? To help you get a better job? To help you reach your full potential as the witch you are truly meant to be, Hermione? No, no they didn't._

" Wow..." Hermione says as Lucretia pulls out a silver dress out of the box.

" It's absolutely stunning, isn't it?" The girl beams." Hermione you have to be there tonight."

_You have overdue client projects to be submitted the day after. Your boyfriend forgot about your dinner night on Friday. But your friends do not care._

Isobel flips her hair. " By the way, Girls.. I have also heard Naomi Selwyn has just gotten engaged. Rumour has it that Michael Crabbe is the fellow. Godric bless her!"

Lucretia pretended to retch loudly while Hermione and Elizaveta wore sore expressions.

" No. Salazar, no!" Lucretia cried. " Ugh, don't remind me during 6th year- I may or may have not seen his package."

" What!" The three of them gasped.

"How small was it?"

"What did it look like?"

"Was it thick or thin? Or actually, don't answer that." Isobel waves it off and takes a hasty bite from her croissant. " How did you even manage to see his--"

 _Women._ Tom thought to himself. _Typical. Are you seriously intrigued by this fulfilling conversation you are having with your friends, Hermione hmm?_

Hermione and her group of friends met up often at various cafes in diagon alley to spend some time together. Of course, Tom had found a way to tag along behind the shadows. He was pleased that their mini caucus happened on the weekends where he had no work shifts at Borgin's.

_I intend to introduce myself personally into your life soon, Hermione. I promise you that. You won't regret a single bit of it._

Her friends usually gossiped. Hermione sometimes engaged in their conversations but most of the time, she would stare into blank space before Kowalski nudged her on the shoulder and asked her for updates on her sad love life.

_11.09am._

Tom takes a last sip of his coffee. He gets up. He had a meeting scheduled with Nott, near noon.

_Sorry, I have to go. Hermione. Urgent business._

* * *

_"Riddle..." We were at your flat._

_The place was in a wreck. Books laid across the floor. I had underestimated your wrath after one of the Scamander's antics._

Hermione wobbles. Riddle catches her, his hands on her waist. She staggers back onto his chest. He chuckled.

_"I-I..." You were leaning against me. Not that I was complaining, of course."I-I...think..."_

_" Now, let's get this coat off you."_

His coat and hat tossed onto the table. Hermione groans. Her body sways.

"I—nghhh...."

_The smell of Ogden's and the remnants of your pasta dinner on me._

"I..." She moans. "I..."

Tom murmurs a scourgify. His shirt is clean once more but the odour remains. He shook his head and conjured the broken pencil laying on the floor into a bucket.

"Ugh...." She threw up again. He held her hair up while she continued vomiting, unknowingly rubbing affectionate circles on her back."Ugh..."

 _Shouldn't have drank so much, Hermione?_ Tom thought to himself.

There came sobs when her vomiting stopped. She once again leans into his warm strong grasp as he guides her movements through the convoluted maze of books.

He lays her gently on the bed. Tom brings a damp towel over, cleaning her red lips. She closes her eyes for a while. He touches them, not noticing how close they were. He heals the bruises and bloody scrapes on her body, listening to her soft whimpers, eyes focused.

_I was too late._

She whispered to him as he placed some of his magic on the wounds on her neck ."I deserved this."

"I dressed like a slut. I asked for it." She said, opening her blood shot eyes.

She curled up into a ball, muttering the same sentence.

Tom shook his head, frowning." It's not your fault."

_It was mine, Hermione._

"It is." She cried, shaking her head." I-I have never paid any attention to take note of my clothing. But i s-should have..."

_It was my fault, Hermione. I was too late._

" Men who can't keep their own hands to themselves is the issue." Tom stares at her intently." It's not your fault, Miss Granger."

_I was too late._

"It indeed is my fault! So many things have changed since I arrived here." She sniffles.

He raises an eyebrow, confused.

" People are different. They dress differently. They talk funny. I should be the one that's adapting. Not them."

_What are you on about, Hermione?_

" If anything, me dressing like a harlot- I was asking to—"

"Don't you even finish that sentence, Miss Granger." Tom narrowed his eyes at her. " You were minding your own business. The men came up to you. They touched you against your will. It's never your fault. It's theirs."

"Oh Riddle..." Hermione shook her head." No..."

_I should have been quicker. I should have been quicker. IT WAS MY FAULT._

"Now. Take that idea into that pretty little head of yours. It was not your fault. Sleep now, Miss Granger. It has been a long night. Get some rest." He says, standing up." I'll get you some water and some dreamless sleep.'

Tom strolled away, lips pursed.

_I was too late._

_Those men got what they deserved, Hermione. Maybe, even worse. What they did was unforgivable._

He opened up her wooden cupboard and found the potion with ease.

_On my usual days, I'm 5 steps ahead. Hermione._

_But when I am around you, I fall behind._

_And I'm not mad at that fact. Not at all. But when it concerns you being violated against your will, you can't imagine the amount of rage I feel towards myself. He thinks to himself while loosening his tie and tossing it onto the couch._

He meandered back to her bed with a nightgown and the potions. " Miss Granger?"

 _You were babbling incoherent thoughts._ A smile appears on his face as he approaches the brunette. _I don't mind. It's... sweet. Yes, sweet._

He sits on the bed, letting the silk teddy rest. He slips the concoction into her mouth. His smooth fingers lift her jaw. She gulps it down, staring at him with those innocent big doe eyes hers . Tom had to restrain himself from bringing his lips to hers at that moment.

" Water." He said. She sips, their eyes transfixed on each other.

" C-could you turn around?" Hermione says, flushing a little. Tom nodded quickly and shifted his body on her plush sheets. His breath is uneasy, it was tempting not to take a little peek. She takes a long time to dress.

When he finally turned to face her. She is laying on her back, her brown frizzy curls spread over the soft pillows. Her gaze still focused on him, her dazed look giving him ideas other than staring at her.

Her nightgown did not leave many places unseen. Tom was sure that was the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his life. The pretty brunette in front of him in that sleeveless light pink nightgown, giving him an ample view of her cleavage.

Tom licked his lips. His cobalt-blue eyes darkened before shaking it off, when he noticed that strange expression she always wore whenever she was with him.

" Riddle... Tom..." She whispered like a siren calling out to him.

Tom smiles once more. _You said my name, Hermione._

"Tom...Riddle... Tom." Her lips repeated it as if it was a mantra until sleep found her.

When she did, he tucks a stray curl behind her ear and lets his eyes rest upon her for a while, before conjuring another set of complicated wards for her flat.

_Never again, Hermione. Never again._

He walked out of her flat into the cold outdoors and lit his cigarette.

_Tom Riddle. Muggle. Pathetic. Useless. Sharing my filthy father's name. But hearing it escaping from your mouth, I'm convinced it sounds decent when it's from you only, Hermione. I would even like to hear you moan it in your sleep._

His thoughts drift.

_" People are different. They dress differently. They talk funny. I should be the one that's adapting. Not them."_

_I wonder. I wonder. Hermione. Where do you come from? I wonder. I ask myself that often._

He peers into the naked window. The brunette was already dozing off soundly.

_I want to better you. When we live together, your place won't be a pigsty. I promise you that. I'll clean for us. And you won't eat that takeout crap Galton gets for you, I'll cook for you everyday. I promise. I'll even do your laundry._

His fingers reach into his trouser pocket to rub against the fresh pair of lace.

He watches her sleeping form.

_By the way you are beautiful, Hermione. Do you know that? Galton Scamander definitely doesn't. Your eyes. Brown. Every morning, I hear you talk to the mirror. Telling yourself deprecating comments. Comments you internalised from your friends and your boyfriend. A plain jane. A bossy swot. That your eyes are boring. That your body is not feminine enough. That your hair is a bird's nest. A travesty. You repeat these words to yourself. You think you're not worthy of anyone. Well, I beg to differ, Hermione._

_You are a femme fatale. Your eyes are copper against honey. They are beautiful. Your body is of a goddess. Your tight arse. Your pretty tits. Those pink hard nipples I want to wrap my lips around. I want to ravish you, fuck you rough and proper. Give you that orgasm you never had and deserve. Pull you closer to me with that hair of yours which accentuates your wild and crazily admirable personality._

_I would say you are not simple as they or even yourself wanted you to be, Hermione._

_Nobody appreciates you. But I do. I hope you see that. I hope you really see that._

_It will take some time for us to finally understand that all we need is: each other. But I am a patient man, Hermione. I do not mind waiting. Good things come to those who wait. I promise you, I will give you the life that you truly deserve. Those 'friends' of yours? We will see about that._

Letting the smoke sift through his nostrils, Tom takes a seat in front of the brick wall and whispers a spell to remove the pungent smell from his shirt, replacing it with the spicy scent of sandalwood and cardamom. He grabs his journal out and starts reading through his notes.

_Diary. Check. Ring. Check._

_Hermione. Did you know?--_

The sound of incoming footsteps interrupted Tom's thoughts. Immediately, he frowned.

The Scamander man child is here.

" Excuse me. Who are you? And what are you going here?" His wand is directed at him.

Tom looks up from his journal before tucking it into his pocket. He raises his hands in mock defeat, the cigarette hanging from his mouth." I mean no harm--"

_I am tempted to point that wand back at you, Scamander. One knows you never start a fight with a direct punch._

" Answer the question. WHO ARE YOU?" He sends a hex towards Tom, who easily deflects it.

_What are you, a first year? An instant scalping hex? Please._

" Miss Granger- is unwell. She has asked me to accompany her." Tom lied, the fag hanging between his fingertips. He didn't want any man other than him near Hermione, especially after what had happened that very night. " Now take your leave. She will be terribly distressed if you wake her up with the commotion you're creating right now."

" I don't know who you are , I am--"

" Is everything alright, sirs?" A voice pipes out. Her figure, miniature compared to the two figures standing in front of her. She rubs her eyes wearily, while her hands hold a teddy bear. Her voice laced with fatigue." My Father is trying to sleep."

_Tom had never seen the child before._

Scamander cuts in before he could respond, he says exasperatedly. " Miss Annika. We are very sorry for the absolute racket we have caused. I am just telling this intruder to leave.

_Intruder? Forgive me but what in Salzar's balls, are you talking about, Scamander?_

"Oh." The girl rubs her eyes once more, the moon light falls onto her.

Tom catches a glimpse of the familiar coloured patches...purplish-red bites on her collarbone before she shifts her body to face the light-brown haired wizard.

" Alright,anything... just...please keep it down, sirs. My Father is trying to sleep."

_She is what? 8? 9 years old at most? He could not believe what he had just seen. Something was definitely playing with his mind._

The girl momentarily shivers on the spot.

"Now." The Scamander twirls his wand, changing back the subject." If you don't mind. I'll like you to get off this property right this instant. My girlfriend lives here and you-"

He narrowed his eyes at Tom." Clearly don't."

Tom was about to say something, until Annika cut in.

" Mr Scamander?" The tiny girl interrupts,glaring at him. " Miss Hermione is sick. He is healing her. She told me herself. She wants some rest of her own and wishes not to be disturbed. So could you please leave and let Mr Strix be? "

He was from an orphanage, Wools. What 18 years of his life he remembered were spent in between cold bricks of a mausoleum after the moon had set. He remembered every single child at the orphanage. They never liked him. They called him a ' freak'. That he didn't belong there. Muscle-fueled kicks and flicks to his nimble self. He remembered detesting everyone there. Hanging Billy Stubs Rabbit. He remembered hating children. However, this girl was no child.

Galton stuttered. He looked as if he was told his inheritance was removed." I-i'm sorry, I didn't know that!"

_Now you know your place, Scamander. Now you know._

" I'll be taking my leave, right now."

Within a few seconds, he was off from the scene. Tom grinned.

He turned to the girl. "Thank you, Miss Annika."

" Anytime." The girl said. Her voice darkens. " Fuck. Father always complains about him whenever he is around. Says something along the lines of ' shagging like bunnies, I hope that girl gets a bun in her oven soon. Slut!' I don't think Miss Hermione is like that. I think it's Mister Scamander's issue. I wish he would go away."

_It's definitely comforting that Scamander doesn't have the ability to knock you up anytime soon with his disappointing performance in bed. However, what is not is this girl's colourful vocabulary. I certainly need to do some research on your neighbours, Hermione._

" Don't worry, Miss Annika. With what you told Scamander just now- he's not going to crawl back tomorrow and disturb your...peace."

"Well. Glad to hear that." The girl gives her teddy a firm squeeze." Good night, Mr...."

" Tom Riddle." He said.

" Yes, Mr Riddle. Take care of Miss Hermione and yourself too!" She waves him a goodbye. Tom reprociates with the same gesture with furrowed eyebrows. She saunters back into her flat. Tom watches the receding shadows of her bushy hair until it fades into the darkness.

_The girl. Her eyes. Identical to mine. Dark brown hair. Mine. Her frizzy curls remind me of yours, Hermione. Do you see our incoming future right in front of my eyes?_

_But those marks on her- ' My father is trying to sleep.'_

_Hermione? Tell me._

Tom shakes his head. He would know more about them in a few days' time.

He takes another drag from the fag before stubbing it out.

Returning to the flat, Tom made his way to her bed. He sits down beside her. The brunette was sleeping soundly.

His fingers stroke her messy curls, softly. _I wish I could be here every night with you, Hermione._

She fumbles and her body makes contact with his. Her head resting on his lap.

He smiles. _And you know it too._

Tom continued his mindless stroking, his gaze focused on the dozing brunette till hours later, he was finally satisfied and continued his journal writing on the couch.

* * *

Tables passed by him, he was nearly at the entrance. He just needed to get past...

" Hey, is that you Tom Riddle?" The black hair witch was behind him. Lucretia.

_Rude much, aren't you Black?_

Tom nodded limply." Yes. It is me. Miss Black."

" I can't believe it." The girl gasped, jumping up and down. Other patrons in the cafe turned their heads to her, shocking at this witch's improper behavior. The witch blushed, she stopped.

_Does she ever think?_

She continues anyway. " The girls definitely need to know you're here. I haven't seen you since Hogwarts! I've been waiting to show my friend Hermione about the most handsome... "

He tuned out most of her prattle after that. It was common hearing about his good looks, intelligence, power... discussed among the witches of his age. Besides he only needed Hermione. That was all that mattered.

" Ah, I have gotten lost with my words again! Silly me. Now for the objective of the day: get Hermione a lay!" Lucretia pulled on his arm and heaved him to her table of friends. The expression of irritation disappeared in a flash.

_It's time I officially entered your life, Hermione. It will all be better soon, I promise._

. " Girls. You would never have guessed who I found..."

 _Insolent girl, haven't you learnt any sense of self-awareness?_ Tom thinks irritatedly to himself. _Furthermore, dubbing yourself a pureblood witch. Haven't you learnt any manners from etiquette class?_  
  
The three of them were chatting, with Hermione staring into space. He wanted her to turn around and face him.

"... Tom Riddle." Lucretia finished, a wide beam on her face. " The last nice guy in Wizarding Britain, I tell you!"

 _Definitely am._ Tom thought smugly to himself.

Isobel and Elizaveta turn around. Isobel gaps." Gods..."

She was instantly smitten. Her hand taps on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione snaps out of her day dream, finally noticing his presence." Mr Riddle."

Tom smiles at her immediately. _Hello you._

The tall blonde stands up. Her hand stretched out immediately. Her eyes narrowed at him ." Elizaveta Kowalski. Pleasure."

" Tom Riddle." He shakes her hand.

Damn you Black.

Her grip is strong. Kowalski grins.

"Thomas."

"Actually, it's just Tom." He said.

_NOON. MEETING WITH NOTT. AT NOTT PARK._

" No, Thomas."

Tom gritted his teeth.

_I don't get your friends, Hermione. How do you even stand listening to them without going deaf?_

" It seems Hermione here knows you, Thomas. How did you get to know her? Tell us." He wanted to wipe that smirk off Kolwalski's face.

" Godric, liza. Hit right on the nail." Lucretia snaps her fingers, diverting her attention to the brunette sitting beside her." Is that right, Hermione? Did I finally use a muggle idiom correctly?"

_Could someone just shut her up?_

Hermione ignores her questions. She does not meet Tom's intent gaze. She says casually. " We met in his shop."

" Indeed." He nodded.

Suddenly, he noticed a prodding in his mental barriers. Tom raised an eyebrow, his eyes searching around for the culprit. While Isobel and Lucretia harassed Hermione for more details, it was easy to conclude it was her. The blonde of the group who was gazing at him intensely.

 _Occlumens._ Tom nonverbally incanted, putting up his endless steel like barriers with ease against the tsunami of obstructing willpower.

He glared at her, who attempted to once again tap onto his mental dexterity. Elizaveta raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. Tom shook his head. _Another legilimens? Wouldn't have expected from you, Kowalski._

"By the way, Tom." Lucretia quipped.

He turned his attention to her.

" There's a party happening tonight. I would like to extend an invitation to you. Could you make it? I'm hosting it at my Villa. Many witches and wizards are going to be there." The witch beamed." Besides, Hermione here-- is crazy single and would not mind--ouch, Mione!"

The brunette bumps onto her shoulder, her cheeks rivaling the colour of her friend's dress. " Lucretia!"

" I was just trying to help. Since Tom here is the perfect gentleman, you and Galton are on shaky terms- I thought--"

" I don't need your help, Lucretia. And especially not from him!" Hermione turned her head to the side to avoid Tom's gaze, the rosiness of her cheeks still present.

_Hermione, my help is crucial to your survival in this cruel cruel world._

Tom chuckled, he approached her sitting form. " We barely know each other, Miss Granger."

 _I know almost everything about you_.

" Why the swift judgement?" He teased.

The blonde interrupts. " When you're done flirting with Hermione, Thomas. Do be reminded that she has a boyfriend in her life. She doesn't need you."

_Neither does she need someone like you in her life, Kowalski._

" I will be there." He informs Lucretia before swiveling around, eyeing Hermione. " See you there tonight, Miss Granger."

Their eyes meet but Hermione breaks it off, biting her lip.

" Have a good day, Miss Granger." He takes her hand. She seemed startled, her chest heaving up and down. He gives it a longing kiss, a tinge of hunger in his cobalt blue irises staring into her honey brown reflection.

When Tom leaves, he does not forget the pair of scrutinising green eyes following behind him and the learnings he had made from that encounter with Hermione and her friends.

He was sure he made a fantastic impression on the three of her friends. Though Kowalski? She did not seem very welcoming towards him at all.

_If there's anyone that's going to stand between us. I tell you Hermione. I would do anything. Liberal use of the 3 unforgivables. A muggle screwdriver. A mallet. A plain pair of pliers. Any of the curses from Magick Moste Evile. Anything._

_I tell you, Kowalski. We are not over this._

_Pawn to d4._

_Your move now._

* * *

" I'm sorry-- I didn't mean to--- AGHH!" The man continued to wail and scream out his vocal cords.

He released the wizard from his favourite unforgivable,letting him spasm frantically on the floor like a dying cockroach.

_Pathetic waste of a scum. Did you really think I was going to let him go off scot-free, Hermione? I tell you the perverse ideas I've seen in this man's head at that bar. He wanted to touch you. Touch you in places which you wouldn't have liked. Places that only I am allowed to touch._

The man's face was ridden with metallic blood and mucus. Tom let out a bloodcurdling laugh.

" Are you, really?" He raised an eyebrow, circling around the aged wizard- his intended prey for the day. He beckoned his fingers, the neat stack of black and white pictures landed onto his hands.

He waves the photograph gleefully in front of the man's shaking form. Joseph's eyes widened in fear. In it, revealed him stripping the robes off a witch behind his large window.

_Matilda Longbottom. 14 years old. Supposed witness of his case against the Newmanns murder. Well it definitely was a murder to her innocence!_

" This isn't the only picture I've got." He smiled as the aged auror looked at him in extreme mortification. 


	4. Nagini

“ My Lord.” 

Tom swirled the glass of whiskey in his hand, watching it slosh lightly against the extravagant crystal. A fag smoking from his perfectly shaped lips. 

“ Beatrice Lovegood from the Ministry has resigned from her post as head of Magical Law Enforcement. The minister is looking for replacements from the auror side of the ministry. From what I heard from my colleagues, Joseph Prewett or Agnes Filch seem to fit the bill.”  
  


“ Old fools.” He laughed to himself as Nott watched his next words warily.

“ They said an appointment was due next month. Said something about Moon’s electoral promises to reaffirm muggle relations...require a strong representative to sort out the public. “

“ Strong. Yet obedient followers of his. Prewett and Agnes have been waiting for this very day to come, ever since they have stepped into the ministry. Moon has been holding the strings of them for some time.” Tom said, downing his glass. “ Nott, you are to follow their very steps closely these two weeks. This may be your in. I assure you that.”

Cantankerus had wanted to rise up the ranks in the ministry. Tom was a malevolent lord. Besides he needed an additional eye on those bumbling workers at the ministry. 

“ Understood, my lord.” Nott nodded. “ Is there anything else that you require me to do?”

“ Just follow your orders.” 

“ And you’ll be fine.” Tom smiled as Cantankerus Nott gave him an unsure look.

“Nott. If you fail. This is a only a small reminder." 

He lifted his eyes to meet the dark irises of Tom.

“ Crucio.”

Torrents of rippling hell drowned Nott, spazzing on his italian leather armchair as Tom watched, grinning.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


On that Saturday evening, Tom arrived home from his activities.

Physical, one might add.

He found the witch in Flourish and Botts.

_From the back, her curls were not as wild as yours. Her body was not as curvaceous as yours. Her face held no resemblance to you, Hermione._

But Tom thought it might do the trick.

It did not take much convincing for her and him to end up on the covers of her bed. The sheets were rough like sandpaper. Reminded him of the bed spreads from the orphanage. He did not mind. He got on with it. 

Her mouths let out moans of pitched ecstasy with his frenetic pounding, the slapping of their skin reverberating across the musty mix of sex and air of the room.

He does not kiss her. He does not cuddle. He did not tell her any sweet words of love stricken words. Lord Voldemort fucks, period. Her body a tool for his lust stricken obsession with the image of his favourite and only brunette implanted onto the woman’s face. 

And he definitely does not cum into her. 

She came first. One. Two. Three... a minute later, he pulls out and lets his seed run down her skin. He shook his head as she pants, looking at him like a love sick fool.

She was okay, he thought to himself. 

She bits her lip at an attempt to get the man standing in front of her to fuck her once more. 

And he did, a few more times. Taking her in the back. She squealed like a pig in the barn. He thrusts a few times into her mouth before growling frustratedly when her teeth meets the tip.

“ Do you even know how to give a blowjob , woman?” 

She flinched.

Tom was done. _She was not you. She will never be you, Hermione._

“I’m sorry...I--” She attempts to resolve the situation by stroking her hands on the now flaccid cock in front of her.

An hour later, Christine Shacklebolt laid mindlessly on the floor of her bedroom. A modified spell that triggered her ailment of asthma did the trick. Tom obliviated her memories of him before he left, not saying another word.

_I would give anything to lay my skin against yours._ Tom thinks to himself as he jabs the key into the keyhole. He pushed the flimsy wooden door and found himself back into his drab of a flat.

The space was tiny but the rent was affordable every month with his meagre pay as a shop assistant at Borgin’s. And well, it was not bad as he always made it out to be. It was small but a manageable amount of room. Stacks of books organised neatly into piles by genre along the sides of the 4 walls that held him. 

He tossed his keys and coat onto the rickety table. Then he opened the fridge, grabbing the jar and poured the icy water into a glass.

He thinks as he sips the water, letting the frigid sensation burn his tongue. 

_A party. Would you attend it?_

He placed the glass onto the table as his fingers brushed through his perfectly styled hair. 

Tom finds a new coat in his closet, it was firmly pressed, a basic black. He puts it on and leaves his flat with his hat on. 

He apparates.

He is back outside her flat.

His long legs moved. 

The curtains are drawn aside again.

Tom watches with concern.

She was sobbing. 

He wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She placed her hands onto her face.” He told me he wouldn’t do it again. But he did. Didn’t you ask for it? Didn’t you ask for it? Didn’t you ask for it?”

Her eyes are bloodshot. 

“Fuck it, Hermione.” She hurriedly shoves a spoonful of pesto noodles into her mouth.” Let’s get out of this shit place and find some fun. No boyfriend. No responsibilities. No Lucretia’s party.”

“Let’s go back to old times. Just you and Ogden’s.” She sniffed, unbuttoning her shirt.

Tom knew he should not have looked. But he looked anyway. This was Hermione, giving him a free show.

Tossing her wrinkled clothes away, she puts a blouse and skirt over her lacy undergarments. Tom watches with a heated look, he reminded himself to put that memory into his pensieve later.

“Now. Alcohol. Me time.” She uttered in front of the mirror. Her head turns as if noticing Tom’s presence at the window. He was glad he had a disillusion spell casted on himself. She stares at the spot he was standing at for a moment. 

He swallows.

Hermione shakes her head.” Ogdens. Now.”

  
  


* * *

Morning came. He laid on the couch, writing notes furiously onto his journal. The night had passed by in a flash. 

He hears a soft moan.

“Oh shit…” She mumbled as her body tossed in her bed.

Tom had stacked her books on the side, her floor was obstruction free once more. 

He stands up, moving towards the stove to place a kettleful of water over the fire. 

The smell of apple like herbs scented the room. 

He pours it into a mug.

She was awake when he approached her with the steaming cup of tea.

Her eyes are watchful. Tom chuckled. “ Good morning, Miss Granger.”

“Here’s some chamomile tea.” He pushes the mug into her hand, she grabs it and looks into the cup. She sniffs it. 

“ It’s not poisoned.” He joked.” There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Sure.” She scoffed but took a warm sip of it anyway. She smiles a little, Tom notices it before it was replaced with a frown.

“ Why are you still here, Riddle?” She asked. “ Don’t you have any other activities to attend to? I’m sure you’re a very busy man to meddle with a nobody mudblood like me.”

“ You were attacked. “ Tom pursed his lips.” I wanted to stay until you had your senses fully recovered.”

“Pftt…” She laughed, unnerving him slightly.” I’m sure a mudblood’s safety is high on your list, Riddle. Number one, as if!”

_It is._ Riddle thought to himself.

“Don’t call yourself that, Miss Granger.” He said lowly.

“ I will. Don’t lie to yourself, Riddle.” She sneered, sipping from her mug. 

She snickered. ” I’m pretty sure you were delighted at what was coming for me.. Did you want a trophy for yesterday? God what a hero you are, Tom.” 

“It’s not--”

“ When you’re done convincing me otherwise. “ She curled her lip. “ Get the fuck out of my flat.”

Was it the time of the month for her? Tom was convinced of that, when he found himself out of her flat. 

He returns to the spot outside her window and peers into it. 

She was having breakfast. A bagel. Creamy butter. She was reading the Daily Prophet.

At that moment, a voice broke his attention.

“ Mr Riddle. Is that you?” 

Annika.

“ Why are you looking into Miss Hermione’s flat?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Tom had forgotten to cast the disillusion spell on himself.

_Fuck. Of course, the child had to be out running at this point of time. Mousy little thing._

Tom swallowed and plastered his best smile, facing her.” Well. Miss Hermione isn’t here. I’m waiting for her. We are going on a date.”  
  


“Oh.” Annika said, rubbing her neck tentatively. “ Her and Mr Scamander aren’t together anymore?”

He wished.

“ Uh…” Tom murmured.” Yes, indeed.”

“ Where are you taking her?” The girl asked once more. 

He wanted to strangle her at that spot. Could anyone shut her up?

“Uh…” He fumbles to come up with another lie.

“ It’s alright, Mr Riddle. Did you hear that sound...I…” The girl turns away from him. Tom furrowed his eyebrows. All he could hear was their conversation echoing through the frigid air of Surrey.

His legs following absent-mindedly. She had wandered a few metres into the cluster of thick trees behind the flat block. 

Tree after tree bark. Branches crunching underneath his feet. It had brought him deeper into the woods. 

The sounds of familiar hissing caught him off guard, finding the tiny figure with bushy hair bent down. She was picking up something amongst the scattered yellowing leaves that adorned the gritty soil.

_“ Are you alright?”_ She asked. 

The smooth columns of emerald armoured reptile muscle shakingly grasped onto the young girl’s fingers, pin prick blots of red left behind on the girl’s contrasting warm skin.

Tom breathed in. 

_“ Helpppp….meeeee….missssss… it...hurts...so...much….”_ The thing whimpered as Annika stroked her short fingers across its dull scales, avoiding the patches of broken veins. 

_“I will help you.”_ The girl nodded frantically in a soft hiss laced with pity. The weakening curling reptile on her palm reprociated with a lick. _“ Misss… thank you….”_

Tom raised an eyebrow and approached the two.” Miss Annika…?”

“Oh Mr Riddle, thank Salazar you’re here!” The girl went running into him, squeezing a grunt from him and wrapped her arms around the man. She gazed into irises identical to her own. “ I need your help!”

He pursed his lips into a thin line. If she was any other kid, he would have just avada-ed her and be on his way. 

_But she was special somehow. Just like you, Hermione._

He sighed, his arms raised away from the grasp of the impudent girl.” Fine. What do you require of my assistance, Miss Annika?”

Her face wore a downcast expression as she broke away from the embrace, lifting her tiny palms to reveal the creature that was laying on it.

“ I think she’s dying.” She whispered. ” Mr Riddle, do you know how to fix her? I-I… don’t have a wand and I have no clue of how I could heal…”

Tom stared at the snake. Its eyes were dazed, a miniature broken body lying on the child’s right palm in a growing puddle of already congealing metallic red, the same smell that lingered often in many of his memories.

Suddenly, he softly spoke. “Pass her to me.” 

“ Healing her should be an easy feat. “He murmured as the girl placed the reptile onto his waiting hands. Hands that were now gloved with blood once more. 

He casts a few spells to check its vitals and for curses, as Annika watched the man with fixated eyes.

It took some time, Tom was sure the cobra was doomed to die. She was small and pathetic, not like any of the other majestic snakes he had encountered. The large garden snake he remembered ordering to hurt the other children in the orphanage. The ballisik that slithered under his former school of Hogwarts, in a secret chamber that only he could access- it ended up killing that deplorable mudblood Myrtle in his 5th year. And the form he held as an animagus, a black mamba that scared the fuck out of his followers when they disobeyed.

The poor snake held no chances.

While Tom was absorbed in his deep thoughts, one of the obscure spells he used from Slytherin’s manuscript glowed a bright yellow. 

“ What is it?” The girl asked.

“ It seems our friend here has been struck by the deminutum mortem curse.” Tom said,breaking from his internal grumbles. “ By using novitate vitae and some blood replenishing spells, she will be back into her original state.” 

“ Heal her right now!” The girl demanded.

” Please, Mr Riddle!”

He couldn’t refuse her request. _Especially when she reminded me strongly of you and myself, Hermione._

The creature screamed. Annika looked uncomfortable.” How long will the pain last for her?”

“Should be over soon.” He mumbled as he waved his nimble finger tips, green hues of magic slowly renewing the mangled meat and sealed up the blood vomiting veins. 

Her stormy blue eyes watched carefully, opening her parched pink lips slightly in an ‘o’. 

The loud shrill receded. 

_“Now, time to fill her up with the fluids she lost.”_ Tom hissed absently. He released his control, letting the waves of crashing splish splash magic wash over the reptile that was starting to grow a healthy tint of life to its patterned scales.

A bright smile returned to the girl’s face as the cobra calmly flicked its forked tongue into the air.

“Here.” He gave her a genuine smile, tenderly placing the patterned snake onto Annika’s palms.

The cobra coiled itself around her small wrist. Annika watched in awe as she crawled up slowly, brushing against her skin and explored her arms and shoulders

  
  


“She likes you.” He chuckles, relishing in the moment where the girl had affirmed a connection with the creature. 

He loved the warm fuzzy feeling that embraced him when he was around snakes, it was similar to the emotion he had felt when he was around _his Hermione._

“ Keep her.” He grinned, Annika raised her head in surprise. ” Snakes make good familiars.”

She frowned.” But my Father… I don’t think he would allow me to keep a familiar. He told me I would be able to keep one if I gave him good head. He says I need to learn how to deepthroat first, then maybe he would consider… letting me own… one…” 

A pause of creepening silence overcame them.

_What. The. Fuck._ Was the first thought that came to the young dark lord’s head. 

“ Well. You don’t always have to listen to your father, do you Miss Annika?” He spluttered. “ Hide her if you must. A simple pet won’t hurt anyone.” 

“ Alright, I suppose so. “ Annika shrugged with a grim look on her face before mumbling softly under her breath. _” Hide her if you must, Annika.”_

  
  


“ We better get going.” Tom reminded her with his lie, a smile on his face. ” My date with Hermione is due.”

Truth to be told, he was eager to leave and find out more about the little girl standing in front of him. Ministry records were the first objective he was keen on searching. 

The pair trudged through the thick woods. As they walked, Tom on the spur of the moment asked.

“ Miss Annika.”

“ Yes?”  
  


“ Your ability to speak with snakes. “ He said. “ Have you always known of it?”  
  


“ I can speak to snakes?” The girl gasped, stopping her movements. The snake perked its head up, as if it was intrigued by the conversation the man and the girl were having. 

“Yes.” Tom chuckled before faintly hissing. “ A parselmouth. A rare gift. The ability to speak and understand snakes.” 

The girl understood him, her mouth moved mechanically in the language. _“ And my father called me a crazy slut…”_

She murmured a few incoherent hisses under her breath, a few of which Tom caught. It went something along the lines of, _“ wow… crazy… freak… freak… slut… parselmouth…”_

That was when Tom found himself placing his hands firmly onto her shoulders, the girl flinched involuntarily, broken from her panicking. 

_“ Miss Annika.”_

He hissed. _“ Do not be frightened. This gift is nothing to be ashamed of.”_

_“ If anything, you should be proud of it. Did you know Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth too?”_

A small grin replaced her frown.

_“ Really?”_ She hissed excitedly. 

He nodded. 

_“ But…”_

_“ No more buts, Miss Annika.”_ He gazed into her eyes, saying seriously. _” Special. That’s what you are. Not a freak. Not anything. Definitely not a slut.”_

Her blue eyes seemed to recoil at that very last word, whimpering _“Okay…”_

 _“ You understand me now, Miss Annika?”_ Tom asked. _” Do you?”_

Annika nodded.

_“Good, now let’s get you back home.”_ Tom said, pleased with her answer as he guided them to the path back to her home.

They arrived at the same bricked building of flats, minutes later.

_“ I have to get going now. Thank you, Mr Riddle for today.”_ She raised her head to meet his gaze.

He smiled. _” It was no trouble, glad I could help you.”_

_“ Good luck, Mr Riddle. I hope you and Miss Hermione have a great date!”_

_“ Thank you, Miss Annika. By the way congratulations on your first familiar.”_ Tom said. _“ What are you going to name her?”_

_“I haven’t really thought of that...hmm maybe... I think I’m going to name her… Nagini.”_

_“ Nagini, it is._ ” _It was a great name_ , Tom thought to himself.

From the ancient myths from Asia, a feminine form of Naga in Sanskrit. Snake. Tom felt the cobra curling affectionately around the child held great potential as great as the child herself, who was walking away. The possibilities were endless, he told himself.

And he needed to find out more on Annika, especially her father. If anyone could call him that.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


“ I don’t think you’re sorry. Not at all, not a single bit.” He sneered, throwing the pile of photos in front of him. They flew against Prewett's quivering figure. Every single one of them contained the unpleasant actions he had made. Him shaking the hand of Alexander Crowdy, ex- Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Him pocketing the sack of galleons that Crowdy has passed him. An angled photo showing a clear view of him discreetly reaching under Minister of Magic’s daughter Sarah Moon’s skirt during the annual ministry gala.

Tom shook his head to himself. _Ministry men were predictable. Corrupted. Useless. Preying on adolescent witches. Absolute mindless scum loading up the government._

“ That’s just the tip of the iceberg.” He laughed at the tied up, bleeding wizard who was quivering from head to bottom.

“P-please! Anything, I’ll do anything-- what did i ever do to you at all?” The man pleaded.

“Listen up you old sleaze.” Tom curled his lips, eyeing him closely.” You should have thought twice before you laid your filthy hands on my little witch. Now you are going to pay for all of the crimes you have commited. You will die a slow, painful death. Nobody would even cry for you. I promise.”

“ Now for the main show of the day. “ He laughed. “ How nice does a knife sound to you? You have very meticulous fingers, Prewett.”

The man shook his head fervently. Tom tutted.” Well then, what would you like instead?”

“Oh well.” He fingered the knife before the quivering man’s gaze.

_My Hermione. MINE._ He thinks to himself before the cursed blade runs across the skin.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: hi readers,
> 
> I would like to extend a thanks to these readers on :Niagara14301, littlemoonlights for their constant reviews. It really does get me through these 1am nights this past week. Also, shout out to the reviews from Beetlejuicee ,Aid4,Nesilihan13ismar, caro09, blossom.sakura and smithback, you guys are amazing.
> 
> As for AO3 readers: darksakura, ili_hades_daughter,Bibikitten224, mindfulady,goldenempress_ofwaterland12 and guest for reviewing! Additional thanks to the bookmarks and kudos!
> 
> Alsoo i have recently read this awesome fanfic called ' the love bug' by Cupidusescurare. It's Tomione with a huge vault of kink and sexiness, please go and check it out!
> 
> Btw I'm gonna put up my spotify for tomorrow for this fic's playlist. The song choice for this chapter is : deer in headlights by sia.
> 
> Till next time, love you guys to the moon and back
> 
> x Annalisa


	5. P.I Tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Smut alert! 
> 
> BTW MY SPOTIFY IS UP, I HAVE MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC. IT'S TITLED 'LOVE FANFIC' AND THE LINK IS IN MY PROFILE.
> 
> SONG CHOICE: Do i wanna know by the arctic monkeys.
> 
> x Annalisa

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Figures in neatly pressed suits passed by him, they hold crafted smiles and arm movements of ministerial behaviour. 

He wore blonde hair with streaks of grey, brown eyes with sunken cheekbones. 

The compartment was tight. Enclosed. Just the two of them.

He tapped his feet on the carpet. The woman on his right turns her head to him, she seems to brighten up.

“Good morning Mr Wilson!” The young woman chirped to him. .” Nice seeing you on a Sunday. Always busy with department work, eh?”

He gritted his teeth.

“Good morning to you, Rita.” A smile formed on his face, his brown eyes catching a glimpse of the shiny name tag on the woman’s blouse. “ Yes, busy as a bee. If you don’t mind, I have to look through my work documents…”

He whipped his journal out and focused his gaze onto his writings.

“ Oh, Mr Wilson?”

He bit back the intention to send a tongue tying hex towards her.

“ Yes, Rita?’ He murmured under his breath, his fingers digging into his pocket for the familiar material of yew.

The woman’s shadow looms over him, he is taken by surprise.

“ Tonight.” Her pink lips brushed past his ear lobe. “ Since Gigi won’t be home.”

Needless to say, a minute later he wiped her memories off of their encounter. He whispers into her ear. “ He’s using you.”

Rita was another of Department Head Wilson’s trysts. She was no special toy of his. 

He peels her pathetic body off, leaving her slouched dazed self on the carpet.

Tom shuddered in disgust. Two words. _Ministry men._

As the machine zigzagged and zoomed up the floors, Tom held onto the golden rope as he did for his very sanity.

Getting access into the records room had been simple for him, a practice he found familiar since fifth year. At that time, he was thirsty for information on that silly old man Dumbledore. The old coot was getting suspicious of his activities in school. Tom knew- to win a war, he had to know his enemies. 

Leverage was what he had.

“ _Accio_ Annika’s file.”

A medium stack of brown rimmed files weighed into his waiting hands.

Tom furrowed his eyebrows as his fingers flipped through the various papers.

Face after face. Blond. Red. Freckles. A scar. A mole on her left cheek.

A string of words repeated in his subconscious. _Blue eyes like mine. Dark brown hair. Bushy like yours._

_Annika. Annika. Annika._

He had found her.

Standing beside her familiar face with an innocent grin was a block of confronting words.

**_Annika Guinevere Haze._ **

**_9 years old._ **

**_Blood status: HALF- BLOOD_ ** _._

  
  


Left on the doorstep of Erin’s Home For The Children in 22 April 1936.

The home’s statements read:

**_Annika Haze is a respectful girl with a sweet approaching personality. However, she requires additional care and attention. The child is prone to acting out on her own needs and has a strong disregard for authority- a paddle does the job well most of the time. She does not interact with the children at the home at all. In fact, she scares them. There are numerous accounts on this aspect of Annika- READ SECTION B: NOTES _**

Tom read every single line. 

Annika was adopted by businessman Howard Haze and his wife Melissa nearly half a decade ago. Haze managed a medicinal factory that closed down in 1941. Melissa died not more than a year after. The man has held no job since then. 

So she was adopted. An unwanted child. Just like him. Her father called her a crazy slut. He had remembered his pathetic muggle father called him a bastard too.

_Who were her parents?_ He wondered. _What would drive a mother and father to give up their daughter to the adoption system that many know would end up in an unhappy home?_

_“ Accio Howard Haze’s file.”_ Duplicated another copy.

He had known himself to be the only parselmouth around for all his life, until Annika arrived. Knowing parseltongue was a trait that was prominent to descendants of Salazar Slytherin and not a learnt skill, blood ties were a certainty. 

Whatever it was, he knew time would tell. He would just need to get closer to the child. Somewhere on the way, he would find an answer for him. For Annika. 

A trip to the Home was definitely awaiting him for another day, tracking down her ancestry would be easier than brewing the _idem potion,_ a particularly complicated potion that would take half a year to brew. 

There was a lingering issue. Howard Haze. 

Insane or typical? A cruel father or a man of his era? A tortured soul or a monster? Or is he all of these?

He knew he was quick to assume the stories behind the little girl’s life. He had barely known her since their last encounter revolving her attaining a new cobra familiar Nagini. He had not seen her since. 

Should he be glad? That the girl was not watching his movements while he himself watched his witch through the window?

But he should be assuming. The tales he had seen in front of his two eyes. In the bricked building. Wools. Complete darkness, not a hint of the silver world outside, the windows tightly shut, the chamber of the tomb world where no sound from the cold city could penetrate.

Tom inhaled.

He remembered.

Young girls. Their dainty hands. In tight braids. Grey wool dresses. He remembers not thinking much about them, except for the leers of the older boys to the group of girl-childs. Sometimes at night, he would hear a scream down the hallway. He would cover his ears with the rough pillows of his cot. 

In the morning, during breakfast, he would spoon the concoction of plain oatmeal into his mouth. He would watch limply as the girl from the night before gets dragged up to the front by the aged matron by the ear. The matron of a C lettered surname. The tiny Nancy would sob, the children would all watch as the matron used a wooden paddle. She had found her blood soaked knickers from the other day. The girl’s time of the month had passed a week ago. Maidenhead ago, nobody would not touch the girl. A social parasite. She was shamed. It started out slow but became a rampant disease throughout the tomb.

Tom shuddered at the memory. 

Annika would be an exception from this fate, he decided.

Tom shook his head, the papers rattling in his briefcase as he took long strides back to the lobby.

_A child forced to grow up._

_Pressed into shapes._

_Now, she is not a child. No. She had grown up._

Her bruises. Her crude words. Her very fear.

A father was supposed to protect their daughter.

He could not do anything at the moment. Tom knew. He had no hard evidence.

It would take much convincing for the system to work out a solution for Annika. Besides, who would take care of her? Herself? She would end up as an orphan again. Just like him.

_At the end of the day, people are really just disappointing, aren’t they?_

A father. A child. 

Used. Forgotten. 

He gazes at his hands, for a moment he wants to wash them. He pushes that thought aside.

The vacant eyes of his fath—

_But are you, Hermione?_ He thinks to himself before stepping into the anticipating lift.

_I hope you won’t disappoint._

* * *

  
  


_Her perky nipples brushed against his hard chest._

_Their hands crawled all over their bare skin._

_Lips moving on each other._

_Their very own sensual pantomime._

_“ Oh...Tom!Tom!Oh...Tom!” Her breasts bounced in the cold stiff air, her nipples had pebbled. A sight that he savoured very much. She was riding him with vigour._

_His calloused warm hands settled on her toned thighs, guiding her down his erected cock as he let out guttural rough moans._

_She closed her eyes, bringing her tiny hands to cup her creamy breasts and bounced on his cock, his thick and long shaft filling her up._

_Tight. Hot. Wet. Was all Tom could think of._

_He flipped them over. Their faces are barely a centimeter apart. She watches him with that dazed look of hers._

_His lips caressed her ear, releasing a shuddering moan from her. “ Hermione.”_

_“ Who do you belong to?” That was what he said before the tip of his cock started grazing across her firm arse, leaving behind wet spots of their combined fluids on her skin. She twitches, whimpering.” Tom… please…”_

_“ Answer me, Hermione.” Taking a breath, his thumbs circle against her nipples. He kisses the spot under her ear. She moans once more. It was her sensitive spot, Tom remembered._

_“ I fuck you like no other men can.” He growls, nipping that same reddening spot that was starting to turn a shade of purple, adding to the smatters of canal bites on her nape. ” So tell me, Hermione. Who do you belong to?”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Hermione shakes her head once more, defiant._

_“ You didn’t answer my question, Hermione.” He said, watching her with heated eyes. His hand makes a hard contact with her arse. “ Answer me.”_

**_SLAP!_ **

_She lets out a moan.” Tom…”_

_“Answer the question, Hermione.” He rubs himself against her, letting his hard cock place in between the cleves of her buttocks. He thrusts his hips forward, grabbing her thick curls, while releasing another shrill whine from the witch under him._

_“ Tom… I want… you in me! ”She let out a wail._

_“ Then tell me who you belong to?” He leaves trails of kisses and bites down her neck, his hard appendage shifting roughly against her bare skin. It grew harder, if that was even possible._

_“I…” His free hand crawls down her torso, feeling the smoothness of her soft skin against him. His fingertips graze upon her barepubic area, circles near her dripping pussy. ”I…”_

_“Who. Do. You. Belong. To. Mudblood.” He grunted, rocking his hips back and forth against her once more._

_His finger grazes upon her wet folds, finding the little pink pearl that was eager to meet him. Her breath hitches before he flicks it while circling his hard cock hard against her jerking body._

_Tom bites his lip, letting his finger sink into that splendid slit._

_“Please, Tom! “ The mudblood’s body shifted under him once more, letting his stray finger slip out. She mewled at the loss of him, her walls pulsing with eagerness to be stretched by something._

_Tom’s hands pressed her down on his mattress. He gropes her breast hard._

_She lets out a wanton moan as she attempts to wriggle her back against him, creating ragged sounds from the Dark Lord._

  
  


_“ If you don’t answer.” He said firmly as he slapped her arse. “ I’ll shove my cock down your throat.”_

**_SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!_ **

_She whimpered, fumbling in the sheets as she tried to hump her way into the mattress below her._

_“ Hermione.” He warned._

_“ Tom…” She moaned, juices dripping down her thighs._

_Shifting their bodies around, his fingers grabbed her chin and lifted it. Her brown chocolate eyes meet his dark blue eyes, she bits her lip. Tom’s eyes darken. “ Fuck me. Please? “_

_“I belong to you, Tom. Only you.” She blurted out._

_For a split second, a genuine smile was seen on his face. His finger traces across her swollen lips, down her neck and onto her collarbone._

_He lays her down on the sheets like what a lover would do. But they are not lovers. Enemies one would call them._

_In his little apartment, the obscene sounds of their pleasure echoed throughout._

_Loud squelches of the cock entering the only pussy it ever needed._

_Behind and forth._

_He feasted on her glistening folds like a hungry man in the desert._

_In and out._

_Thrusting in and out of her eager mouth, leaving behind a tangy and memorable taste on her papillae._

_His eyes rolled._

_A man. A woman. Two people alike in dignity. In fair old Britain, where they laid their scene. From future grudge to old mutiny. Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth of these two foes grew a pair of star-cross’d lovers in this life. Whose misadventur’d overthrows . Doth with their love bury their future strife._

_He watched the ceiling._

_He nuzzles her neck, wraps his arms around her small waist as she sleeps soundly._

_Wait. Love? Who said anything about--_

* * *

Tom woke up, gasping.

Alone, in his own bed.

He shook his head, letting his fingers run through his usually perfect dark locks hat was now dishevelled with sweat.

It was then he had found the familiar feeling of the sticky fluids on the front of his boxers that rubbed against his hard on.

He had ejaculated from his vivid dreams of her, for the fifth time that week.

“ Fuck.” He growled, sitting up.

The moonlight shone from the bedside window, he basked in it. 

Glancing at the blank wall, he thinks erratically. He listened to the beat of his hummering heart. He wonders about hers. _She would be asleep by now_ , he thinks.

_You need me. I need you._

_Don’t you know it, Hermione?_

Tom gets up and moves towards the bathroom.

_We will meet._ He decided.

  
  
  


  
  
  


* * *

A month came.

The sun had started to set, Tom stepped out of Borgins. That afternoon had gone wonderful for his plans.

He was eager to find her. 

He knew where she was exactly.

He would find her indeed.

“ Point-me to Hermione Granger.” He followed its directions.

_Flourish and Botts._

Pushing the door, he was overwhelmed with the smell of vellichor. He greets a fellow classmate on the way. 

_Top Floor. Index F._

_Tsk. Tsk. Miss Granger. Been getting into Dark Arts, haven’t you sweetheart? How deviant of you._ Tom thought to himself, quirking an eyebrow as he watched the petite witch. She had found herself absorbed by a particularly malicious book about Life Restoration.

_The way your brown eyes look when you concentrate hard. The bite on your bottom lip when you are caught unawares. The soft gasps you make in the midst of your reading. I remember it. I know it all. I know you, Hermione._

He removed the disillusion spell and approached the woman who had found herself his object of desire for the last few months.

_I will accidentally bump into you, you’ll never even know I was here. I would say hello._ He thought smugly to himself.

“Hello. Miss Granger.” He spoke smoothly, the witch's head tilted up from her book, her brown curls swayed.

“Oh hi.” That was all she said before she moved her head down to continue her reading, murmuring.” What are you doing here, Mr Riddle?”

_To find you._

“Is it a crime to purchase books now?” He asked, averting his gaze from her. His fingers grazed upon a title. _Forces and life at work. “_ Love this particular section in the store.”

He opens it and starts reading. He swallows, feeling the prickling heat between their close bodies. Occasionally he would lift his eyes from the book, taking a peek of the witch whom he towered over.

_I just like you. Your frumpy sweater. But that night certainly took its effects on your choice of style. Salazar, do I wish that I could rip that shirt shorter._

He knew she would start a conservation, regardless of his identity.

“ Excuse me.” 

Tom lifts himself from the book, meeting the warm eyes of the brunette.

“ Do you think life is interesting?” She smiled. She smiled at him. “There is no wrong answer.”

“Sure, sure it is.” He paused.

_With you. It always is._

_My strange witch, aren’t you?_

She chuckled.” Hmm. Thank you.”

Her gaze returns to her reading, Tom notices the bite of her lip.

He thinks to himself. _Are you flirting?I would like to think you are but are you, Hermione?_

“ I should inform you that life is what you make of it. “ He interrupted. She picks up her head, watching him with a confused look.

“Oh well, thank you for your honesty.” She trails, stopping for a moment. She stares into his eyes, she is still smiling. 

Hermione casually asks.

” Are you following me ? Everywhere I go, I bump into you.”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Truth. Tell. Fuck no, no. That is what--_

“ Not initially but then yes I was completely. “ He stammers. It is a break from his composed and structured demeanour he held on the surface. “ I am sorry if I seem skeevy. I saw you here and I thought it would be nice for a talk. "

He expected her to slap him. Call him out on his behavior. Hex him even. Walk far away as she should.

Instead, she nods slowly and her smile returns. It’s pretty. “ No, you might have been if you actually looked like one. In this case…”

She bits her lip. Tom watches,his adam apple bobs. 

“ Good choice on that coat of yours. ” _It might have been a purr._ Tom thought. _Or it could be just a sign of her opening up to me._

“ Great. I debated on wearing another today.” He gave her a smile, his legs started sauntering them away.

_Truth, that is what will shut this down._

“Oh wait.” Her voice calls out to him. He stops, rubbing his neck. “Anyway, I’m sorry...Tom.”

Blood rushes into his head.

“For the other day. I didn’t mean it.” She said. “ I-I shouldn’t have judged you quickly. Besides you saved me...on that night. I was alone. You came. “

He slowly turns around.

She continues, exclaiming.

“I barely know you, yet God…! I yelled at you for saving me from those men. But I believe you, Tom. Now. T-thank you for…--”

“It’s fine. Miss Granger.” He gives her a light smile.” Let bygones be bygones.”

“Let bygones be bygones.” Her head bops slightly. 

Her lips curve into a grin.” Anyway sorry, let’s start over on a fresh page again shall we? 

_I am glad that you have given us a chance, Hermione._

“Hello. I am Hermione Granger.” She reaches her hand out to him. He takes it and shakes. "Pleasure."

_Indeed it is._ Tom smiles.

He said.” Tom Riddle. Nice to meet you, Hermione.”

_I promise you. You won’t regret that decision._

Suddenly there was that flash of fear across her eyes that was replaced by a look of cheeriness. 

He raises an eyebrow and thinks to himself. _What is it of me, that you fear? Are you scared of me, Hermione?_

“I...uh… are you free this evening, Miss Granger?” Tom asked, he put on his best charming smile. “ There’s a restaurant down East that serves nice Italian cuisine. I have heard their chocolate panna is one of the best in the country.”

_Please say yes._ He internally pleaded. Lord Voldemort never pleads.

“Uh…” She bites her lip. Tom’s eyes darken. _That’s a bad habit you should stop, Hermione._

“Sure. Sure, why not?” She shrugged her shoulders. 

He beamed. ”Splendid. Do you want to continue reading Miss Granger, I don’t mind--”

“No. I want to check them out now.” She shuts the book. “ And it’s Hermione. I think we are well past formal greetings now.”

Tom just smiled at her, saying nothing as he follows her down cheerily the staircase to pay for their purchases.

_Cheers to us._

* * *

“It’s S.P.E.W. Not SPEW!” Hermione said hotly. Tom resisted the urge to laugh and at the same time, ravish her with a deep kiss.

“ Alright. Alright.” He lifted his hands up in mock defeat, chuckling.

_Your eyes are filled with passion, more than I could ever imagine from you._

_Your lips---_

An image of them wrapped around his cock from his dream appeared on his mind, Tom tried the best to wipe that off during their conversation. He swallows hard.

_Their ardent movements as they spouted words of intelligence and your strange babbles in the welfare of miserable house elves._

Once they had gotten to converse with each other, Hermione had warmed up quickly to him. That and along with the fact that he was a very charismatic speaker himself. 

Tom discovered new information about her from their dinner talk. She told him about her life. That she was a homeschooled witch who lived in New York. Her London Accent came from her mother. She was 19. Came to Britain as she wanted a new life here. She worked as a runes translator. Freelance.

He knows it was a lie. MACUSA had no record of her very existence. Why was that so? Why was she lying? He would find out soon. 

Tom also found that they had many things in common.

She loved reading as he did. She had an ambition to make change in the world as he did. (Well not now as a simple runes translator but she had dreams she wanted to make into reality ) She held a strong passion for her magic as he did. They were one. He was certain.

Unlike the mindless droves of witches that followed him, he found that he was actually intrigued by the engaging conversations he held with his little witch. From complicated runes theories to off topic rambling about Honey Duke chocolate flavours. He savoured every second of it. 

“ So. S. P . E .W.” Tom started. ” What do you plan to initiate this change?”

“Well.” Hermione tapped her finger on her chin. “ I suppose… I will try to spread the word. Leaflets maybe? I don’t know. People just aren’t accepting of my ideas.”

He needed her to know she had him.

“ What did your friends think of it when you told them?” 

“Ha! My old friends thought I was crazy.” She shook her head, muttering.” They told me elves lived to serve wizards. That was their purpose. That’s what all of them told me.”

“ Well.” Her arms akimbo. Her hair frizzles. Tom is amazed at how her hair changes with her mood.

” ‘ Just in their nature’. As if! If we, wizardkind had stopped subjugating elves as their free slaves and brainwashing them into believing it is their only purpose. I think we would have an elf civil movement coming soon!” 

“That is true.” He nodded. 

“ Then my new friends in Britain simply think I’m ridiculous and should focus my energy on ‘catching men’ . Please!” She scoffed, taking a sip of her cocktail.

_See. I was right about those friends of yours, Hermione._

“ What do you think we should do, Tom? I think Elf’s rights is a serious issue that is undiscussed in society.” She smiled at him.

He didn’t want to disappoint her. Her little Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.

He told her. “ Firstly, Hermione. Speak to the elves. Talk to them. Understand their needs besides bluntly telling them that they deserve their freedom, from a complete stranger. Make friends. Elves are kind creatures, they are simple to make friends with.”

“ Here comes a strong point: politics. We here in Britain have a mix of friendly and useless politicians. I believe if you talk to Angelina Jorkins of Magical Care of Creatures, the rising star of the department. A domino effect is in place. Making connections is the crucial part to the start of your civil movement.”

She stared at him. Tom hummed quietly.

“You’re r-right.” Hermione stammers, hesitating. “ I don’t think I have thought of that. Thank you, Tom. Seriously, thank you.”

He loved her saying his name. The tip of her tongue taking one step down the palate to tap, at one, on the teeth. _Tom._

“ Welcome.” He smiled warmly at her as she looked down, her fingers scruffed against the white table top. “I could help you spread the word. If you want me to, Hermione.”

A nervous bite on her lip. “Yes. That would be nice. Thank you.”

_He would convince his followers._

The Panna Cotta arrives. The pair dig into their desserts.

“Hm.” She muses, scooping another bite.” It’s perfect.”

Tom smiled. “Told you so.”

For the moment, Tom felt he was finally home. His home was not Hogwarts. No in truth, it was with the brunette witch sitting in front of him.

The candlelight flickers in the dimmed room of light chatter of violin and talk. 

  
  


He swirls his glass of clear russett whiskey as he watches her. 

She was beautiful. His little powerful witch. In that white dress of hers. His minx. He wanted to take her right and there. Did she not know?

  
  
  


Hermione notices Tom’s gaze. Her eyes fixated on him, she takes a bite of the sweet chocolate. She chews. Slowly. She swallows it down, reprociating his stare.

She blurts out finally.” That’s a really beautiful tune.”

He watches her lashes falter and lift. He wanted to hold her in his arms. 

"Do you want to take a dance?" He uttered suddenly." With me, Hermione?"

At that moment, he was sure she would stand up and leave.

But she replied with a smile. " Why not? Let me finish my dessert first, though. I'm not one to let good dessert go to waste."

Tom let out a laugh.

Moments later, the witch and the wizard found themselves on the dance floor, along with couples from old to young.

Tom took her hand and laced his warm fingers through hers. Hermione stares into his dark blue eyes, placing her hand on his shoulder firmly.

She smiled and he did too.

Their movements are fluid, dancing through the dionysiac pieces of the orchestra.

Their eyes never leave each other.

They do not notice the words gushed in the background.

" _What a beautiful couple."_

" _He and her are truly meant for each other."_

" _God bless them!"_

His heart thumps hard against his chest.

_Is it love? Is it love?_ Tom thinks to himself.

He tightens his hold on her hand, Hermione does not notice and instead she stares into his eyes. Their eyes are fixated on each others.

His arm twirls the woman around, she falls back into his grasp.

He grazes his thumb across her lip as she smiled at him.

_No. It is not._ He thinks. _Lord Voldemort does not **love.**_

* * *

The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit cobble pavement in such a way that the couple walking on it were drifting across.

He thinks about his coat draped on her petite body and how it fitted her perfectly. It had taken some convincing from him to persuade the head strong yet shivering witch to accept it. 

_“Tom, it’s fine. I can transfigure--” She stammered._

_“Take it, Hermione. It’s no trouble at all.”_

_“Are you sure--”_

_“I’m very sure.”_

They say nothing to each other while they walk.

If anyone had walked past them, they would have assumed the two were a couple. But they were not. What were they exactly now? What will this new development lead to? And where forth?

“Hermione.”

“Yes?” She hums softly. Softnoises.

“ I’m curious.” He said.” Are you in a relationship?”

He knew the answer already.

She pauses for a moment, no words come out of her till.” I used to. He left me a while ago.”

_Cerebrum manipulation._

“ Told me he had found someone better on letter. Left Britain for Southern Europe to elope with his belle, I think.” 

_Shown her his true thoughts of her._

Hermione’s voice lowered, her legs had stopped moving.” I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care. That he left.”

“That he never loved me.”

She shrugged, holding back tears that were forming in her eyes.” That he used me.”

“Gods, I’m a mess.” She rubs against her wettening cheeks, clearing her voice. “You... shouldn’t have seen that.”

But in the moonlight, he does not say anything but wraps his arms around her. She accepts it. He lets her sob in his hold. His hand strokes her back gently.

_You deserve better. I made sure of it. Didn’t I promise you that Hermione?_ Was his last thought. _Mine._

* * *

That earlier afternoon, Tom was standing by the counter. His hands grazed upon the wooden surface as he stared absentmindedly into blank space.

Suddenly, the bell chimes struck against the gaping door. 

A woman walked in. She was plump, elderly, old enough to be his great grandmother from the wrinkled lines on her face that she obviously tried to cover up with pounds of thick white scarlet powder. In his opinion, she could be the prime attraction of the Circus Arcanus. Her ginger wig could brighten up the entire Knockturn Alley itself. Dressed in elaborate expensive robes and heavy jewellery, this woman would be Tom’s biggest client for a while.

He had seen her face from the numerous pictures his followers had sent him. Ragged. Old. Freakish. Memorised every line under her cheek. 

“ Hello. Good morning!” The woman waltzed into the shop as if it was a tea party.

” Oh hello!” She stared at the young man standing behind the counter. She licks her parched lips that were painted a bright pink. “ Is Mr Burke here?”

“Good morning. Madam.” Tom greeted her, he put on his usual smile. The smile that melted the hearts of many witches, charmed their ways into the usually strict and cold demeanours of teachers. The very smile that he gave towards that mudblood Myrtle before her eyes had averted into yellow irises of a serpentine nature. “ Sorry to inform you but Mr Burke is away on an urgent trip to Paris. Says he has a deal to make.”

“Oh well. I will just visit another day I think.” Her laugh is of an old hag, he is tempted to wrap his hands around her jugular.

“Wait. Madam.” He interrupts, flashing her another smile.” We have some interesting stock that came in this morning. I think madam, this egyptian emerald necklace would be a perfect addition to your collection. It is certainly fitting for a beautiful lady like you.”

“ Ah, Madam!” She giggles. “ It makes me feel so aged. Hepzibah Smith. Call me Hepzibah, my dear.”

  
  



	6. What are friends for?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has been acting strangely lately, Tom finds out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Helium by Sia.

“ She told me ‘ Girl, you would be a great witch one day’. “ She chuckled.” Said I would make great changes in the world.”

Tom watches her, keeping a small smile on his face as he walks with her through the park. 

Hermione and him had been getting along better than he hoped. What their relationship could labelled at that moment would be friendship. Obviously, he wanted Hermione and him to be more than two individuals with a platonic association. The moment he claimed her as his, he had already envisioned them at the top of the wizarding society, with him ruling over it and her as his faithful little witchy queen.

“ Is Madam Robiland a seer?” Tom said.” I believe she’s right.”

_Another lie. Do you think I don’t see the truth? Your American tales are certainly interesting, Hermione._

Hermione laughed.” Oh Tom, you flatter me.”

Tom smiled. “ Only for you. Hermione. Only for you. “

A tinge of pinkness that tainted her cheeks, she shyly grinned.

The trees swayed as a gust of wind blew across them, sending autumn leaves flying down, decorating the very pebbled path they took. It was an empty but well maintained park near Surrey, Hermione said that a walk through it had always elevated her feelings. 

  
  


_Honestly, part of me thought this day would never come and now it feels so easy, so right. This is how our story goes, Hermione._ He thinks to himself.

“ Tom?” She asked.

“Yes?”

“Why do you work at Borgins?” The brunette questioned him. “ An intelligent capable wizard spending his hours in a shop as a lowly clerk.... God, that was so rude of me… I shouldn’t have said that! I’m so sorry--” 

Tom cuts her off, he mutters.” It’s fine, Hermione. I’ve been asked that question many times.”

“ Is it so wrong to just place yourself in lowly places? I admit that Borgin’s is tacky but it is not so in the field it deals with. I take my job as an experience to learn about people. People are strange. They hold mysteries, waiting to be solved. I see myself as the puzzle solver.” Tom said. “ In wizarding Britain, people have big aspirations. They are willing to sacrifice for their big big aspirations that most will never be able to achieve. Be it becoming rich or getting promoted to the position they desire. Frankly, being a clerk isn’t a miserable job. I have goals, yes but I want my life to be about what I actually love.”

_Power. You._

  
  


“The Dark Arts.” She teased, a sly smile on her face.

Tom chuckled “Hit right on the nail.”

_Somewhat. Somewhat._

“Lucretia loves that saying. Seems like her yammering of it has gotten to you. ” Hermione rolled her eyes before continuing. “A job in sociology. Seems fitting for you, Tom. I feel the same too.I admit that I’ve been superficial. But I suppose that’s all of us, right? We see our differences as something to gain out of.”

  
  


_Differences differentiate the weak and the strongest. Eat the rich._

“ My friends think I should be focusing on finding a man to settle with, as a fellow woman of this misogynistic society. “ She laughed.” However, men run away from me. Fear. Disgust. Hate. I have no regard for this indifference. Of course, I wish I did have someone who loved me the way that Galt…”

Her words paused.

Tom gazed at the brunette whose figure had started quivering, her eyes slate blank of emotion. He could catch a glimpse of the stray tear that rolled down her freckled cheek.

“ Your ex boyfriend--” 

“Nothing. Nothing.” She muttered, her voice clogged with pain. 

Suddenly the brunette swivelled towards him, jabbing her finger at the young dark lord. ” I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here. With you. Galton loves me. I love Galton. I belong to Galton. I shouldn’t be talking to another man.”

“Hermione--”  
  


“This isn’t a date, Tom. We’re friends. That is all we'll ever be.” She spat. “ I love Galton. I love Galton.”

His fists curled at that brat’s name. 

“I. Love. Galton.” The familiar sneer returns to her, she pauses in between each word. 

“ I’m going home.” With that, the brunette had picked up her heels and disappeared before Tom could stop her.

He pinched at his wrist. He thinks for a while before frowning. _What have you been consuming, sweetheart?_

* * *

A month ago.

_Wednesday night. Meet the parents. Scamander and you had somehow made up._

Tom tightened his grip on his wand.

_You wore a nice conservative red dress that covered your shoulders._

_The pristine innocent witch you wanted to be seen as, Hermione._

A sight of blonde curls caught his attention. He raised an eyebrow.

_And of course, Kowalski had to be here too._

Thick calves supporting the all-rounded man, Jacob Kowalski was a dwarf compared to the towering blonde witch beside him. He still commanded an aura of power around him. Jacob held connections with muggle politicians in power and especially in the state of New York, it meant live or die by the hand of someone else higher.

“Sweetheart. What a beautiful place this is!” The muggle gasped, his moustache twitched.” I-I have never been to such--”

Candles had floated above the walkway towards the swanky restaurant, around them were wizards and witches of the elite. Politicians. Businessmen. Celebrities. You name it, you have it.

“Oh papa.” The blonde witch walked with him, arm in arm. She faces him.” You deserve this. Toiling away in that office of yours. I’m surprised your leather chair hasn’t started sticking to your bum! I’ve heard the Foie Gras here is to die for. We will feed you till you’re falling off the chair.”

The greying muggle chortled.” Darlin, you’re going to get this old man even fatter! The Doctor said I had to watch my weight these days. What am I to do!”

“Papa, you’re not fat!” Kowalski gasped, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. She cooed, “ Just big boned. Anyway, this is not just the only surprise for you, Papa…”

Tom chuckled to himself in amusement as he followed them into the restaurant, wearing a disillusion spell. 

An orchestra was playing a typical sonade that matched the candlelight atmosphere of _Les Amis._

Tom sat himself down on an empty chair behind the table they all sat at. He watches.

His witch had looked visibly pale as she sat down with the Scamander brat. 

“ Ah. Is this the pretty friend Liza has been talking about for ages? Miss Granger is it, I presume?” Jacob asked. 

Hermione nodded. ” Yes, Mr Kowalski.”

“ Good evening. “ An aged couple had wandered towards the table. Tom recognises them. _Newt Scamander and Porpentina Goldstein. Parents of the Scamander Brat._

Jacob Kowalski’s jaw dropped.” Newt? Tina? “ He faces his daughter and stares at her in shock.” I can’t believe…”

The blonde hugs her father’s arm gently.” Yes, Papa. We’re having dinner with Uncle Newt and Auntie Tinnie.” 

“Long time no see, Jacob.” Newy said as they plonked down on their seats.” We haven’t seen you since what... Christmas?”

“Ah, you know the usual. Factories have to be closed down for the darn government war programme. Gave me some pension but I had to be incharge of logistical management…” Jacob said.” Anyway forget my business. Let’s all chit chat about something else. Galton’s girlfriend is here tonight. We should make her feel welcome here. ”

“ Welcome to the family, Miss Granger.” He winked at the brunette who seemed to pale even more from his words.

“ Girlfriend.” Porpentina Goldstein who had stayed silent the entire time,spoke up. She raises an eyebrow. “ Galton, you’ve never mentioned a girlfriend in any of your letters--....”  
  


_Oh oh._ Tom thought to himself. _He has been dating you for two months, yet his weekly letter writing has never even mentioned the witch he was sleeping with. Does he even care about you?_

“ I wanted to tell you face front. “ The man stiffened as he wrapped his arm around the brunette beside him. She lets out a soft squeak in surprise. “ Father. Mother. Meet Hermione Granger, my girlfriend.”

“ Hello Miss Granger, nice to meet you. ” Newt extended a hand out to her. Hermione shook it, muttering with a small smile .” Hello Mr Scamander. Hello Mrs Scamander.”

Tina crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. No reply. Hermione faltered at her disregard for her presence. Tom hears her utter under her breath.” What a rude girl.”

_What do you want? A parade to welcome you? I can definitely see where the brat has gotten his traits from._ Tom snickered to himself.

Their dinner orders were soon made. 

A heavy silence settled over the dinner table, silence that was thicker than Jacob himself. Porpentina was glaring at Hermione.

Elizaveta cuts in uncomfortably.” Well! Let’s start with you, Uncle Newt. How about you tell us about your recent trip to Egypt? I’ve never seen a Sphinx before.”

The Magizoologist had popped right out of Newt Scamander as he started blurting enigmatically about his trip. It was obvious that only the Kowalski pair was listening while Porpentina scowled across the table towards her son and his new girlfriend. 

Hermione squirmed in Galton’s tight hold as he sharply told her. “ Stop it. Just stop it.”

“ Son, there’s no point.” Porpetina said casually, sipping her glass of red wine. “ Leave her alone. All we have here is a little girl who lacks manners nor any bit of self awareness. A leopard can’t change its spots.”

Hermione said nothing as she stared at the woman. Galton gruffly said. “ Mother….”

“ Isabella. The girl you have always mentioned to me. I thought you two were involved, _not her. “_ She looked at the brunette. “ I thought you had standards.”

“Mother…” Galton said in a warning tone.

“ She’s absolutely dreadful…”

“ The Escargots are here!” Elizaveta squealed as she clapped her hands together ethuasiacally.

Metal scrapping across pristine porcelain, the conversation continued as before. 

“So Miss Granger, how did you get to know of Galton? A Hogwarts classmate, I presume?” The elder Scamander asked, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief

“Er, no. Elizaveta introduced me to Galton.” Hermione replied, she numbly moved her fork across the plate.

The blonde nodded cheerfully and said. “ And I was correct. Hermione and Galton are truly perfect for each other.” 

Tom heard a snigger from Porpentina. 

“ I agree. “ Newt smiled, facing Hermione.” Tell us more about yourself, Miss Granger. What do you do for a living? What are your interests? “  
  
“I do freelance rune translation work. “ Hermione replied.” I like to read books.”

Porpentina laughs. 

“I’m surprised she even has a job. “

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. 

“ Drinking martinis on his porch? Mindless shopping to fill her days?”

“ Oh Tina. Don’t act like this.” Newt grimaced. ” Miss Granger, I apologise for my wife’s behavior. She has been off the rails....”

“Off the rails, Newt? How so? Don’t you see it’s just another one of those girls who think they can just charm our family and reap some benefits from it? “ Porpentina glared at Hermione disparagingly. “ Power. Money. They are all the same. I can see right though _this girl.”_

“Tina--”

“ Don’t you see? That’s what she’s been looking for. Our son is no random bachelor to dwindle with a gold di--”  
  


At that instant, the brunette stood up, breaking herself from her lover’s graze. She narrowed her eyes at Porpentina. “ I may be a witch with a simple job but that doesn’t mean you get to assume that I’m here because I want your son’s money. I don’t want your money. I don’t need your family’s political influence. I don’t need your approval. I get along just fine by myself, thank you. ” She sneered at the aged auror, throwing the stained linen napkin in her face before storming off.

  
  


“Mother. This is your fault.” Galton snapped, standing up.” She did not deserve that.”

“ Oh she does.” She placed the napkin on the table.

“ You will thank me, Galton. One day you will. This girl will harm you. Look what she has already done to you! “ Porpentina shook her head as he walked off hurriedly to find his girlfriend. 

” From my years as an auror, I can sense that this Granger witch is a danger to anyone associated with her. I can just feel it… running through my veins.” She said to the remaining three who stared at her impassively.

Tom narrowed his eyes at her, getting off from his seat and followed after the pair.

  
  


When Tom found them on the outskirts of the restaurant, he could hear their bickering. 

She was sobbing. 

“ You told me that your parents knew about me.” She weeped, pushing his chest away. “ You lied.”

“ I’m sorry. I did not that my mother would--”

“ _Oh I’m sorry. I’m sorry._ That’s what you keep telling me, Galton. I’m tired of hearing that.” She shook her head. “ Could you just imagine how I felt just now? In front of your father, my best friend and Mr Kowalski, I was humiliated, branded as a....a... gold digging no good whore who was seducing her son! Could you just imagine, Galton? Could you just imagine?”  
  


“Hermione, please come back with me. I’ll…”

“No. No more lies! I’m tired of this. I’m tired of you, Galton. Lying and deceiving me, all the time. Isabella? Go find her! She’s your girlfriend right?” She sneered.” Your mother would _love her.”_

  
  


“I gave you one last chance, Galton. No more.” She said as she started sauntering away to the apparition point. “This is goodbye.”

“Hermione, no.” He reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Galton, let go of me.” She shrieked.

Tom had his hand on his wand, ready to strike,

“Galton, let go of me.”

“Listen to me, hermione.”

Tom squinted at the man’s arriving fist. 

“Galton--”The brunette shook as she was suddenly splashed with a scent of sweetness over her. 

The young man placed his hand on her drenched shoulders, tilting her chin to face him.” Look at me, Hermione.”

Did as she was told, Hermione stared. 

“ Now, baby. Let’s get back to dinner, alright? Our friends and family are waiting for us.” Galton smiled at her. 

The brunette faintly nodded before pulling him into a hug. ”I love you, Galton. Please don’t leave me.”

“ I love you too, baby. I won’t ever leave your side.” He kisses her cheek. 

Tom’s irises were completely red at that point of time. He gritted his teeth. _This is the final straw. Don’t expect me to be that accommodating to you, Scamander._

  
  


* * *

Galton Scamander was not that great of a student in school, he remembered. That could be also applied to his disastrous potion making skills.

His flat was a travesty too. Cigarette butts everywhere, dirty clothes scattered on the floor. He could not understand Hermione’s interest in that silly boyfriend of hers. 

Tom had found the bottle, in a cupboard beside his bed. It was titled.” Love me.” He snickered to himself. 

Beside it was a cardboard box, Tom cocked an eyebrow. Prying it open, it was filled with pictures. Pictures of the brunette.

It was so wrong but he had felt a tightening of his pants as he searched through the pictures. They were not ordinary, let’s just say. It was a full blown pornographic collection of her. 

Hermione taking a bath, her creamy white breasts were visible. Hermione taking off her clothes, revealing those lacy undergarments of hers. Hermione sleeping, shirtless. Hermione giving Scamander head-- 

Did she know, did she know?-- He asked himself that as he placed the pictures back into the box, he slipped it into his briefcase along with the potion. 

_How dare he invade your privacy like that, Hermione. It’s perverse!_ He thought angrily , curling his fist. 

  
  


* * *

Usually Amortentia lasted a week with 2 droplets, Tom knew. She had to be continually consuming it. But who was feeding her it? He had assumed it would have already worn off since two weeks had passed. Scamander was well out of the picture! He had taken care of it, let’s be clear. 

However after a few days of scrutinising after the bottle that he had not paid enough attention, Tom had found the answer to his question. 

This was no ordinary Amortentia. It seemed that Scamander had managed to screw up the potion and leave the wearer of ‘mixed feelings’. He had tested it on a stray homeless muggle he had found in an alleyway a day ago. The woman was yelling at him for beer money and Tom stunned her before splashing Scamander’s concoction.

The woman was in between as she fought to peel off her tattered blouse in front of him while simultaneously telling Tom to go to hell. 

_No wonder, Hermione was pulling strange mood swings. Her symptoms were of the potion wearing off._ He thought to himself.

Thankfully Tom had an antidote, he had kept a safe supply of these in his cupboard- knowing he had many admirers who would do anything for his attention.

A week after their little incident in the park, Tom took an initiative to go grocery shopping for her flat, along with some ingredients to make Hermione and him a homemade roast.He would feed her the antidote. Everything would be back to normal. She would want him, instead of artificial Scamander love.

In his arm held a heavy paper bag, Tom strolled towards the familiar bricked building. 

“ Miss Annika?” He finds a surprise, sitting opposite of Hermione’s door step. The tiny brunette had pulled her scrawny legs up and wrapped her arms around them. Nagini draped over her shoulder. She gloomily greets him. “ Good evening, Mr Riddle. “

“Why are you outside?” He asked her.

“Oh. My father told me that I was being a naughty girl. I accidentally spoke in Parseltongue today, Mr Riddle. I also did not get him his bottle. I did not let him kiss me good morning. He told me I deserved it. “ 

He nearly fell at his feet when he saw the bright purple mark across the girl’s swollen eye. “ Your father did that to you?”

_Wizards and witches, exhibit number one: the seraph. Look at this tangle of thorns._

“It’s alright…I’m used to it anyway.” The girl shrugged, rubbing at her arm. Her stomach growls loudly.” Oh.”

“ Did you have dinner yet?” Tom asked.

She shook her head.” Been here all day. I just don’t get why the trees around here don’t grow any fruit.”

_Father? He had no right._

He reaches into the paper bag and grabs the big pre-cut sandwich. She is startled when he approaches her with the brown wrap.

“Mr Riddle. I cannot accept this.” She shook her head.. “ This is way too much--”  
  
“ Miss Annika. You need to eat.”

“I need to face my punishment.” The girl said indignantly. 

“ A growing girl needs nutrition. Take it. I don’t mind.” Tom pressed it onto her tiny palm, the tiny cobra flicking its pink tongue out, hissing. _He’s right, Miss._

“I...fine.” Her tiny fingers unwrapped it and she took a big bite into the ham. 

She lets out tiny gluttony moans. “ This is so delicious…”

“I expect you to gobble it up, Miss Annika.” Tom ordered.” No leftovers.”

While she ate, Tom sat down beside her and performed a healing spell to remove the bruise from her eye.

“By the way, do you know if Miss Hermione is home?” He asked as the girl took breathy bites. She nodded.” Yes, Mr Riddle.. But I haven’t seen her out these past few days though. Her face looked so white two days ago. She was wobbling like a penguin.”

Wobbling? Paleness? Tom stood up immediately to break down the wards he had constructed, he opened the door with a quick _alohomora_.

“Hermione!” 

Her face was white as a sheet, the rosiness of her cheeks were replaced by the vast paleness of skin. Her arms scattered across the carpet, beside her hand was an open book. 

The air smelled of backdraft, the staleness overwhelming the air he and his witch breathed in. He felt his chest chopped down and split apart. He opened his own mouth and let their bellow come down and out between his bared teeth. 

The antidote felt heavy in his pocket.

He felt his hand plunge towards her.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Her slowly bearable breath going in and out, softly, faintly, in and out her nostrils and her not caring whether it came or went, went or came. 

Tom was not sure days or was it hours that passed. He simply told Mr Burke that his girlfriend was sick. He was thankful even that old unromantic man had sympathised with his situation. 

Nothing else had mattered, except for her.

The healers had to calm him down. He had to take a calming draught. He was sipping on one at that moment as he watched the brunette.

Her flat had to be closed by the Ministry, it was off limits to anyone. 

They told him it was Carbon Monoxide, alongside with the huge amounts of amortentia she had consumed. A lethal combination. They did not know when she would wake. He wished she would.

He rubs the dark green gem of his ring onto her cheek. 

* * *

Her friends visited. They left flowers behind. Lucretia had to be pulled away from the ward by Isobel, she was sobbing miserably. Kowalski had stayed and stared at the sleeping girl. 

“ Why are you here?” She had asked him.

“ I found her.” That was all he said.

No words came back, she narrowed her green eyes at him. 

  
  


* * *

He had managed to slip the girl into the ward. 

Annika had found more freedom these days with her father kicking her out of the flat often. 

The girl brawled all over her unconscious form. “ _Miss Hermione… please...please...wake up!”_ _  
  
_

Tom could only watch, arms crossed. He did not notice the tear that slipped.

* * *

November days.

“T-Tom…?” Her parched pink lips moved. 

He was sleeping soundly beside her, a routine that had become familiar to him. 

His eyes were opened to those familiar brown eyes staring back at him. 

“Hermione...?” His voice broke. 

* * *

Tom had not expected this to arrive early.

“ Your flat is cordoned off by the ministry.” He had told her.

“Oh.” 

He suggested.” Tell you what, Hermione. I have spare space in my flat. I don’t mind sharing my flat with you.”  
  


Homeless for the time being and being persuaded by this charming wizard sitting beside her, Hermione could do nothing but agree with his offer.

"Thank you...Tom."

Tom smiled at her. “ What are friends for, Hermione?”  
  


She reciprocated his smile back.

  
  
  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REVIEW AND LEAVE YOUR THOUGHTS BEHIND!


	7. Living with the enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Hermione and Tom have moved in together, now what?
> 
> EDITED( MIGHT CHANGE LATER)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song choice: Where did you sleep last night? By Nirvana

__

_ Hiemality burnt. The stale smell of cheap soap that had seeped into the air. Blurry waves of textured grey walls that held him.  _

_ Tom had a fixed morning routine at Wools.  _

_ Wake up at the mandatory 5 am. Shower by 5.10. Breakfast at 5.30. Off to school at 6.30.  _

_ He always put on his uniform neatly. Thinning shirt on. Trousers that were always too short for his long legs, pulled up. Tie tied. Pulling on the hideous coat. All in shades of grey.  _

_ “Tom?” Pretty braids. Auburn hair. A speck of freckles under her eyes. “ Could you help me hold my bag? I want to tie my shoelaces. It’s untied.”  _

_ His name sounded so foreign. His tongue felt dry.  _

_ No other child at the orphanage had ever called him by his first name. What came out was either ‘Riddle’ or famously ‘ The Freak’.  _

_ He said nothing, blinking expressionlessly while grabbing the bag. The girl tilted her head up and smiled gently. Her tiny fingers nimbly fixed the loosened strings of her shoes.  _

_ “Thank you...Tom.” She said in a hushed tone, taking the bag before skipping away to join the growing line of children at the end of the hallway.  _

_ He watched the tight braids bounce off her toned back. How she started giggling with the girls... What was their name again? Right, Betty and Lily. He catches the curve of her pink lips.  _

_ “Tom! Well, what are you standing there for?” The matron shouted across, breaking the symphony of giggles and chatter from the children.  _

_ Swallowing hard, Tom sauntered across the hallway with carefully calculated steps while tiny eyes watched.  _

_ A mantra was etched to the back of his mind: ANSWER QUESTION. FOLLOW THE ORDERS. NO LINES ON YOUR SKIN THEN.  _

_ “I’m s-sorry, Mrs Cole.” Tom stares at her with a pouty look, baring his best puppy eyes. “For not paying attention.”  _

_ “ Do as you were told.” She sharply told him.” This is the last time I have to remind you, Mr Riddle. One more step out of the line and I won’t be lenient on you.”  _

_ The fixed walk to the canteen was slow. He was sandwiched in between the boys. He remembered the familiar comments spouted behind and in front of him. Fresh adolescent comments. “ Can’t Adam and Eve Missus Cole would evar forgive that Riddle twat!”  _

_ “Wanker freak.” A gruff voice grunted at him while towering over him.” -Dink yer too good for us, innit?”  _

__

_ Tom did not reply. Doing so simply meant inconvenience. If he stayed quiet like a freak should, he would be left alone. _

_ His eyes fixated on the developing masculinity in front of him, for he wished he did not have to tilt his chin up to face the sneers on their gaunt, sunken faces.  _

_ After a quick wash of their hands with slippery ivory soap, they made their seats.  _

_ “ Settle down, children!”  _

_ Their bums plonked down on the worn-out wood. Tom took a quick seat at a corner of the table, his hands on his lap. He lets his mind run free, facing the peeling wall above. A soft clunk aroused his attention from the asbesto. It was the girl from earlier with the red braids.  _

_ “Hi.” She said, giving him a small grin.  _

_ “Hello.” He said simply.  _

_ Usually, he would ignore them, the children that were around him. He had always felt...they were  _ **_filthy._ ** _ However, this girl was different. The way she talked, the way she presented herself...he was eager to find out why. _

_ “I’m Amy Benson.” She smiled, her hand reaching out to him.” Tom, right? I have heard so much about you.”  _

_ They must have told her to stay away from him, so why has she not? He wondered to himself.  _

_ “ Tom Riddle.” He muttered out, forgoing the handshake.  _

_ Her smile seems to falter at that.” Oh…”  _

_ The small hand dropped back to the table, joining its other.  _

_ “I’m new here.” She beamed. “ Everyone’s so nice. I love it. Don’t you agree, Tom?”  _

_ Her accent is crisp, odd, fresh from the Cockney accent that surrounded his peers.  _

_ “My parents died recently in a car accident.” She shakes her head.” Eastern London’s so different. My auntie said that the West isn’t any different from it. I agree. ”  _

_ “Anywho, I just arrived here yesterday. Mrs Cole was so welcoming.” She sighed, simpering.” I just love it here. Don’t you, Tom?”  _

_ Every child usually avoided him. She was the first to ever spoken real words to him.  _

_ He said nothing back while he catches every detail of her face.  _

_ “Breakfast is ready!” Comes the shrill kitchen spinster yell.  _

_ The children automatically stood up, leaving Amy the only child left seating before she scrambled and found herself doing the same too.  _

_ Marching towards the set table where the giant metal pot standing on, Tom could feel her breath trickle against his neck. Somehow his palms felt sticky despite washing them earlier.  _

_ The dull gruel-like substance plopped onto his metal bowl with a quick splat. Tom glanced down at the concoction and automatically frowned.  _

_ He was taking his tiny bottle of cold milk when he heard a commotion from behind.  _

_ “Get movin, gal. Don’t like it, then scram!” The spinster screeched, the lines of her skin twitching. The Benson girl quivers before apologizing with a certain softness, contrasting with the hardness of the woman’s rash accent.  _

_ He shakes his head.  _

_ And Madam Mann wonders why no men like her. He sniggered to himself before settling down at the same spot.  _

_ Eventually, the girl returns with a bowl in her hands. Her hand reaches to her crown, rubbing against it harshly before letting out a hiss. “ Fuck.”  _

_ Tom raised an eyebrow, he blurted out.” Better not Mrs Cole catching you saying that.”  _

_ She averts her gaze onto him.” What, Tom?”  _

_ “ You don’t know anything about orphanages or even a single clue about the East End, have you?” He said in a hushed tone.  _

__

_ “ Well, technically this is my first day here.” She smiled. “ My aunt had her chauffeur send me here in a car. The streets here are… fascinating.”  _

_ Fascinating my arse. He thought to himself. There was no way a higher class girl from the West could ever survive in the East.  _

  
  


_ Wools and the East was a cesspool of sharks. Amy was begging to be devoured by them by jumping directly into it.  _

_ She sticks her spoon into the oatmeal before raising it.  _

_ “ We have to wait until everyone has gotten their portions.” He muttered. “Then grace.”  _

_ Her head nods before sniffing at the concoction, her face scrunched up in disgust. “ What is that?”  _

_ “Oatmeal.” He sighed.” God knows what Mrs Mann puts into that rubbish.”  _

_ “Doesn’t look like oatmeal to me.” She raised a manicured eyebrow.  _

_ “ We’re government-funded.” He told her.  _

_ “So?”  _

_ “ The worst of the farms arrive here.” Was what he said before he interrupted by the loud ringing of the rusty bell.  _

_ “Loving Father, we thank you for bringing us together for this meal. May we continue to live in your friendship and in harmony with one another. Bless this food, a sign of your loving care for us and bless us in our daily lives.”  _

_ “Amen.” Tom let go of his clenched fists.  _

_ Fisting his spoon into the oatmeal, he took a quick swallow of it. Amy was watching him warily. “ How is it then, Tom?”  _

_ “ Absolute crap.” He grumbled.  _

_ Suddenly another ring of the bell broke their conversation.  _

_ “ Children.” The matron paced across the front of the rancid canteen. Her arms akimbo, she looks at the sea of tiny faces expectantly. “ Have Miss Martha and I, told you to refine your behavior?”  _

_ Tom narrowed his eyes, knowing what was coming up.  _

_ “I and Miss Martha wish the best for all of you.” Her voice boomed across the hall “ So that potential parents would find you delightful enough to bring you home? Wouldn’t you like that, to have parents?”  _

_ The children greeted her with a loud reply.” Yes, Mrs Cole and Missus Martha.”  _

_ The aged matron laughs before digging from her pocket. A set of white cotton that was now soaked with splotches of metallic red. Tom hears a few gasps from the girls and approving laughter from the boys. Her eyebrows furrowed before licking her lips. “ Purity. An extremely important virtue that you all should be all well aware of.”  _

_ “ Now Tainted. Filthy.” She sneered. “ Girls should keep their hands to themselves. “  _

_ That was the last of her words before she rushed across the tables, their eyes stuck on the moving matron. They find her pulling out a tiny whimpering figure from the middle, Tom watches and immediately recognizes her.  _

_ Another one of the Nancys, her ear tugged on by the aged woman. She was yelping, flaying her arms, attempting to move away.  _

_ “ Place your hands on the table, girl.” She ordered.  _

_ “ Mrs Cole, I--” The girl tried to argue.  _

_ But to no avail, Mrs Cole shushes her up with a quick slap of the wood against her palm. It reverberated across the room.  _

_ “ Do as what you were told to do.” She hissed before the girl unreluctantly placed her hands onto the table, her face was ridden with tears that started to roll down her cheeks. “ But Mrs Cole, I didn’t want to-- B-Billy forced himself o-on me!”  _

_ There was no reaction from the crowd, for it was a common occurrence going around.  _

_ “ Billie is a nice boy and so are the boys here.” She curled her lip.” Don’t be a liar, Nancy. Face your punishment. This was your own doing.”  _

_ That was all she said before flipping her skirt over and letting the palm make contact against the skin. The girl instantly yelps and lets out a loud cry.  _

_ Tom does not watch from then on and instead finds himself focused on his spoonful of oatmeal that was turning cold. Amy’s face had turned so white, he swore it was whiter than snow.  _

_ He stirs it around, occasionally sticking it into his mouth.  _

_ “Tom.”  _

_ “Tom.”  _

_ “Tom!” Amy hissed.  _

_ “ What?” He grumbled, annoyed by her incessant pestering.  _

_ “Don’t you think we should do something?” She whispered.” To help her?”  _

_ Tom lets out a soft chuckle before narrowing his eyes.” Are you serious?”  _

_ “ I am.” She said indignantly. “ Why isn’t there anyone sticking up for that poor girl?”  _

_ “ Want to be the second one to receive another spanking by Mrs Cole?” He mocked before saying firmly.” It’s common here. Boys touch the girls. They have to accept it, whether they like it or not.”  _

_ Amy parted her lips before narrowing her eyes.” That’s so revolting!”  _

_ “ Well face it. That’s how it works here.” He shrugged before returning to his meal.  _

_ The oatmeal never tasted so horrid with the complement of the loud screams from the front. Tom shuddered.  _

_ “But Tom, are you like those...boys,” She asked, her fingers fumble with the braid over her shoulder. “ You won’t do that to me, right?”  _

_ “ We’re friends, you won’t hurt me.” She whispered.” Tom?”  _

* * *

Jolting up from the sheets, Tom ran his hand over his sweat stricken skin

It was either memories or simply vivid dreams of rutting his brunette hard against the bed, ravishing her body with passionate kisses, and having her suck his cock. 

He gazes at the tiny clock on his bedside table.  _ 4 am.  _

_ This is the day where we would strengthen our relationship.  _ He thought to himself.

11 am was the discharging time for Hermione. He would accompany her from st mungos and bring her home. Her real home, where it belonged exactly with him.

He gets out of bed and turns on the light. 

Placing his journal onto the table, he starts to write his notes. 

His research was going well better than he expected. Furthermore, Hepzibah had started to visit the shop often. He knew it was all just because of him. 

  
  


_ “ Oh Mr Riddle.” She gushed, fanning herself.” Please.”  _

_ “ This pair of earrings look absolutely stunning on you, Hepzibah.”  _

__

_ He hated this, not the lying, but having to pander to the ego of such an ugly freak. _

_ Blushing, the woman sighed.” What can a witch do without a Mr Riddle in their life?”  _

The Smith Woman was elderly, somewhat frail despite her gigantic frame. She had been a loyal customer of Burke’s for quite some time. He would take this opportunity, he decided, for additional funds. He just needed her to trust him. She will, he had decided. No one could ever resist his charms.

Morning came by soon, Tom meandered into the medical building with a box of chocolates tucked under his arm.

“Good morning, Mr Riddle.” The nurse at the front desk sends him a sly look. “ Fancy seeing you here.”

He catches a glimpse of the shiny nameplate. “Morning, Miss Benett.” 

She sends him a lascivious look while writing the note.” Free for lunch today, Mr Riddle?”

“ Sorry, Miss Benett.” He sends her a charming grin.” I have matters to attend to today. “

She sighed before smiling.” I’m always here if you’re interested, Mr Riddle. Door’s open.”

“ Sure thing.” He replied before snatching the finished approval from her. 

When he was strolling along the hallways, he shuddered to himself.  _ The only witch I will ever be seeing is you, Hermione.  _

Iodoform greets his nostrils as he steps into the ward, Tom makes his way to the bed near the large window. 

“Good Morning, Hermione.” He greeted the witch who had her head stuck in a book, sitting down beside her. “ How are you feeling?”

Hermione raises her head, meeting his gaze with her whiskey eyes. She says cheerfully. “ Hi, Tom. I’m feeling better than before, thank you for asking.”

He feels that strange warm feeling growing within him once more.

“That’s great to hear. “ He grabs the box that was under his arm and places it onto her lap. He smiles at her.“ I brought something for you. It’s your favourite.”

She sets her book down at the side and gasps when she catches a glimpse of the lettering. “ Oh Merlin, Honeydukes milk chocolate? Thank you so much, Tom!” He finds himself suddenly hugged by the witch, he instinctively wraps his arms around her. 

Letting out a big sigh, she mutters.” Why are you so tall, Tom? I can’t even place my head on your shoulder.” The man chuckles, petting her back. She nozzles deeply onto his torso. The one-month hospitalization had done wonders for their friendship, it definitely solidified his presence in her life. He teases.” And you’re so short, Hermione.”

“ Don’t even remind me of it.” She grumbled.” There’s a reason why I wear heels all of the time.”

Letting go of their hug, Tom runs his hand through his hair. “ So what was that you were reading?”

She hummed.” Hmm. Amelia Earheart’s ‘ _ The Fun Of It.’  _ Liza gave me it.”

“ The American muggle who went missing?” He raised an eyebrow. “ Growing feminist icon?”

Nodding, she juts the book to him. “ Do you want to read with me, Tom? It’s an interesting read.”

He smiles at her, taking the book from her hand. “ Why not?”

The brunette laid on her side while he read outloud and flipped through the binder of pages. She occasionally broke a piece of chocolate and fed it to him. What was this fluttery feeling he felt?

“ Mione!” A shrill shout broke them from their reading bubble.

The witch standing in front of them held a bouquet of lavenders.. 

Lucretia smiled, cooing.” Oh, you two love birds!”

Immediately his witch turned a bright shade of red. “ Stop it, Lucretia. We’re just friends!”

Oh how much Tom wished he could change that and he would. 

“ That’s what they all say.” She teases her finger at them before winking at Tom who suddenly grew an unfamiliar blush. “ Unfortunately Liza and Isobel are busy, you know with work and taking care of Minnie. All that nonsense. Hope you are recuperating well, Hermione. These days I worry for your safety with those blood supremacists running around and hurting people.”

Tom had considered this very issue for some time, considering his followers had fell into this very category. He would tell them she was a powerful mudblood, a treasure to be protected. She was the anomaly in these muggleborns. 

“By the way, I brought you some flowers. “ Lucretia said.

His witch nods appreciatively and reaches over to the bouquet on the table. She fingers a stray petal.

“ So where are you going to stay, Hermione?” Lucretia asked in concern. “ The Ministry is going to close down your flat till the new year. I have an unused apartment in the magical community of Manchester, it’s all yours if you need it.”

Hermione smiles. “ It’s fine, Lucretia. “ 

She glances at the man sitting beside her.” I’m moving in with Tom. “

The witch immediately squeals and a shout of protest comes from the opposite ward. “ Someone shut her up, will you? This is a hospital, not a funhouse!”

Tom silently thanked him.

Lucretia blushes before turning around and apologising profusely to the man.

“ Ah, I wish Ignatius was just as brave as you, Tom. Gosh, a Gryffindor himself. Five years into our relationship and he wouldn’t even ask me to move in!” Lucretia sighed before smiling at Hermione.” Lucky girl, Hermione. Don’t ever let him go, he’s a good lad.”

  
  


She narrowed her eyes at Tom.” And you, Tom. I trust that you are going to take good care of my best friend, all right? One wrong finger laid on her and I will come knocking right on your door!”

Tom laughed before putting his arm behind Hermione’s neck, pulling her closer to him. He mock salutes her.” Sure thing, ma’am.”

  
  
  
  


If there was anything Tom couldn’t do, it was him hurting women and especially Hermione. She was his and he liked protecting what belongs to him. 

Hermione let out a soft giggle.

” So Hermione and Tom, the last time I invited the two of you to my party- you didn’t show up.” Lucretia said.

They said nothing back.

“ To make it up to me, promise me that both of you will be here for Ignatius’s birthday party alright? Same thing. Booze. Coke if you wanna.” She winked at the pair.” It’s his 25th birthday, after all, so please!”

Tom and Hermione shook their heads, knowing she was never going to give up on persuading them.

Hermione sighed.” Fine, Lucretia.”

Tom nodded.” I will be there if she is.”

He gazes at his witch who was looking back at him with those big doe eyes of hers. Her smile was beautiful, he thought to himself. He felt pleased particularly with himself, knowing it was him making her happy.

“Fantastic!” Lucretia clapped her hands.” It is happening this Saturday at the villa in Liverpool at 10 to Salazar knows what. Dress nice, we’re going full in roaring 20s!”

* * *

Hermione panted, sweat dripping down her temple. “ Sweet Circe, I’m so unfit.” 

His flat was situated at the very top of the building, that meant climbing 10 floors up for the both of them.

She was currently on the fifth floor.

Tom laughed as he watched her pitiful state. He was two floors above her.

She frowned, peering up.” I get it, Tom! I’m fat, laugh all you want!”

He shook his head before climbing back down to the fifth level. She mutters.” Not my fault that I was not blessed with long legs.”

“Oh, Hermione.” Suddenly she was hoisted up and over his shoulder. His hand placed on her soft arsecheek as he started climbing up the flight of stairs. He wished she was not wearing that tight skirt of hers today, immediately his body had reacted. His trousers felt tighter at that instance.

“H-hey, let me down. Tom!” 

She hit her hands against his back, groaning” Tom!”

“ If you’re going to continue doing that.” He warned jokingly.” I might accidentally let you fall.”

Hermione immediately stopped her antics and shut up. 

Her body was warm against him. Soft breasts bouncing against his back. He could have not asked for anything better. 

Settling her down on her feet, he started readjusting the wards to allow access for her. The last thing he wanted was painful boils growing on her pretty skin because of her trying to enter the flat. He digs from his pocket and hands the metallic object to her.

“Why would I need a key for ?” She asked. 

“ A key and ward access is needed to enter this flat.” He told her.” It’s safer.”

_ Living with a mudblood. Living with the enemy. How ironic. Never had I imagined the day I would actually be letting a mudblood share my flat. But it’s the first step. For you to understand that I desire from you is not just sweet talk and hugs. You are mine, Hermione. You need to know that.  _ He thought to himself.  _ I can accept you. For what you are, my mudblood.  _

He jabs his key into the door hole and rattles the knob, the wooden door screeches. 

“ Welcome home.” He says as he opens the door. Hermione took a few steps in before shutting the door behind her. 

“Thoughts?” Tom asked.” Isn’t much. But it’s doable. “

His witch seemed apprehensive, crossing her arms. The interior of the flat only held one reminder of a slumber. A queen-sized bed covered with grey quilts, situated near the window.

“ There’s no bedroom?” She raised an eyebrow. 

He sighed.” Unless you count my potions lab as one.”

“Anyway.” Tom continued.” I’m taking the couch. There’s no need for you to worry about your sleeping arrangements.”

“Tom…” The brunette protested.” This is your flat. I’m just a guest here, I’ll take the couch--”

“Shhh-” Tom placed a finger on her lips, it tainted his skin with rouge. “ No arguments, sweetheart.”

Hermione shut up, choosing to focus on unpacking her meagre belongings instead.

* * *

_ If I wanted to win you over, I would have to prove it myself.  _ Tom thought to himself as he tapped his foot against the doorstep.  _ Saving the innocent girl from the predator she calls father.  _

The door opens, a woman dressed in a heavy coat greets him. She instantly smiles at the sight of him, “ Hello.”

Tom attempts to gather some of her feelings, diving slightly into her mind. 

It burnt of her lust.

She is forty. He reminded himself that before jumping out of her mind. She does not notice the intrusion, choosing to focus on staring at him instead.

“Annika Haze.” He told her, giving her a crafted smile. 

“ I am a Ministry officer.” His hand holds the artificial identification card bearing his well-groomed face. “ I am currently investigating Miss Haze’s involvement in a classified case. I would like to find out more about her.”

The woman swallowed, her smile disappearing. “ I don’t think you would like what I am going to tell you, Sir.”

_ Gullible fool.  _ He thinks to himself, following the woman through the home. It stung of the same odour that was similar to Wools. Familiar grey walls. A dreary atmosphere he was walking himself through.

She shuts the door, gesturing for him to sit down on the worn leather chair. “ Coffee. Tea. Anything for you, sir?”

“No, thank you.”He replied with another smile. 

The spinster sits down, her hands are visibly clammy. “ I’m Jenny, sir..” 

“So tell me about the child, Jenny. She seems....nice.” He uttered. “ But I believe you have a completely different story. I have read her records, do you have a clue of who her parents might be?”

“It’s just,” The woman paused before continuing. “ We never had much trouble at this home, until she arrived here.”

“Annika was an infant when she was placed into the home. Being the only home in Wizarding Britain limits our resources, we rely on the goodwill from the public.” She said.” Our adoption system is different.”

“ For a child to have an appropriate place here, their parents or guardian have to sign a form themselves.”

“You’re not answering the question. Do you know or not?” He pressed.

“ I am going to answer that on just a bit.” She said. “ 9 years ago, I was about to close the home for the night. I remember it was pouring heavily.”

“ A woman came by. She was carrying a tiny baby in her arms. I can’t exactly remember her face but she was quite tall and wore this black hood over her. “ She answered. “ She acted all hurriedly. Said her parents would come hunting for her if she didn’t make back home in time.”

“ She signed the form and left the baby here. I checked the form, the personal particulars she put on it didn’t make any sense.”

“ What do you mean, Jenny?” Tom demanded.

“As a ministry officer, I trust that you’re well aware of counterfeit magical signatures. Yes?” She asked.” Exactly that happened. No Ardra Matthews has existed. “

“Ardra Matthews?” He raised an eyebrow. The name held no familiarity with him.

“Precisely.” The middle-aged witch shook her head.” I tried all my means to contact her during Annika’s years here. She was a real headache to manage.”

“ In all of my years as a caretaker, never have I ever met such a nightmare.” She continued.” She’s nice and friendly. But someone her age asks to make friends with her, oh boy for all the multiple injuries she has caused. This girl is clearly a danger to others.”

“ There was one particular incident I left out on the report.” She stated, sighing.” Didn’t want the parents running off.”

“ Tell me.”

“ We took the children out on a trip to the beach in magical Surrey. Mrs Erin and I thought it would be a good idea for the children to get some fresh air. Turns out not.” She stuttered. “ We found her hands on Patty. She almost drowned in the water.”

Tom was reeling from her shocking words. “ What?”

“That’s right. A five-year-old tried to kill her own companion.” She sniffed, placing her hands onto her face.” We thought Annika liked Patricia.”

Mrs Cole thought he was the devil for being different from the other kids.

“ We were glad that Mr and Mrs Haze found her.” She said.” I was not sure if she was going to leave the home alone or with a family. “

Tom said nothing but numbly nodded.

“I trust that is all you need to know, sir?” Jenny asked.

“There is one more thing I need, Jenny. That is the form from Annika’s mother. Do you have it? It’s extremely important to the ministry’s investigation.” He said firmly.

The woman stammers. “I’m sorry, sir. But I’m afraid you would need a warrant for that. ”

“Really?” Tom raised an eyebrow, his lips pressing into a thin line. The woman starts to look visibly distressed. 

_ This was way too predictable.  _

_ “ Imperio.”  _

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It was an understatement that Hermione was a mess. 

First of all, Tom detested being untidy. Being neat and prim was always at the top of his list.

Ever since she had moved in, he had to take cautious measures from it turning back into the pigsty that she called her flat. Her clothes were strewn on the floor, lace black knickers slung against the pillow- to which he quickly pocketed as always. 

Two, Hermione had stopped talking to him. Two days had passed since she had moved in, she had said nothing back to him when she came back to work. No greetings, no talk. He missed her. 

Lastly, he found out that she had taken the habit of visiting bars after her client appointments. That did not mean good news. She was a horrible lightweight drinker. This discovery led to a shocking revelation. She had started sleeping around. 

Tom knew she was traumatised, finding out that her ex-boyfriend who had left her was poisoning her mind with artificial fake love. The almost victim of a sexual assault. She was finding ways to cope with her pain. However, he could not let her rot away. She was his, did she not know?

As per usual after his shift at Borgin’s, Tom would use his point me spell which would lead him finding Hermione at a bar, drinking with a leering wizard beside her. 

_ Really, Hermione. Didn’t think you were one for pretty boys.  _ He thinks to himself, taking a sip of his whiskey. He watches her closely.  _ Could you really be into those muscles? Who is this monster? Marcus Warrington, seriously?  _

“ Has anyone told you your tits are perfect?” The man told her, his hand landed onto her stray bosom. He squeezes it. She giggles, taking another swig of the fire whiskey. “ No...except for you, Marcus…”

Tom wished he did not see that. He curled his fist, pounding onto the table.  _ That’s my witch you’re touching, Warrington.  _

He feels tempted to place a fidelity charm on her when she arrives home and passed out.

The wizard flexes his muscles, pointing it to Hermione. “ Want a feel, baby?”

“Hmmm… yes.” She softly scrunches it with a dazed look. “ It’s so big… and hard.”

“Mhm.” He takes her hand and places it on the front of his trousers.” Just like my cock, baby.”

Marcus kisses her on the lips, she does not pull back. 

Tom wished he could wash his eyes and ears out. 

The pair make their move out of the bar. Of course, with Tom following after them.

He could not stand how their hands could never leave each other's bodies. He clenches his jaw.

_ You’ve been a busy witch, Hermione. It’s more competition than I realised. If I want to win your heart, I’m going to have to show you.  _ Tom thinks to himself before silently walking behind.  _ I’m not a maybe. I’m the one.  _

Out of Knockturn Alley, the pair traversed through the night, wobbling across the street. 

The shaky sign of ‘ THE LEAKY CAULDRON’ waved to him as Tom entered the pub, after them with a disillusion spell.

“ C-can we have 1 room please?” Warrington drops the heavy bag of galleons on the counter. The innkeeper raises an eyebrow.” Keep t-the...change.”

The bushy brunette lays her head against his chest as the innkeeper hands them the key with a wary look towards the couple.

  
  


Tom finds himself outside the wooden door. He hears loud moans of an erotic nature. He narrows his eyes.

“Oh...Oh...That’s it harder! Yes, that spot. Yes, oh, Marcus!”

He did not know whether hearing this or watching the Scamander and his witch was worse. 

Tom had started regretting following them.

However there was one benefit he gained from this misadventure though, it was that Hermione liked it  _ rough.  _ Honestly, he had assumed she was one for vanilla sex. Missionary and maybe occasionally giving head. But no, in the bedroom- from the sounds they were making, it seemed she particularly loved being given a good hard rut.

As for Warrington, he was just as an incapable wizard as the Scamander brat in school and outside. Tom would teach him a lesson. He definitely would leave his witch alone.

* * *

He was sitting on the couch, he is surprised she is clear-headed and quite sober actually. 

Tom lets out a loud grunt. The brunette tilts her head, facing him while taking off her heels.” What’s wrong, Tom?”

“Where were you, Hermione?” He asked. “ I was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine, Tom. I can take good care of myself, thank you.” Hermione sniffed.

He stands up and approaches her. The smell of firewhiskey on her breath says hello. “ Were you drinking?”

“Yes, Tom” She nodded before saying agitatedly” What’s it to you, anyway?”

Tom murmurs a wordless  _ legilimens behind _ her back while the brunette took off her coat.

He is met with barriers stronger than he expected.

_ If there is anything positive coming out of this situation, at least your occlumency is up to standard. _

Her hand brushes the curly locks away. Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he caught sight of the red and purple bites on her nape. He wishes he could wipe that slate clean.

“What’s that?” He points to her neck.

“Oh, I had a bit of fun today. Tom.” She said casually.” It’s called a hickey if you didn’t know.”

The marks immediately disappear, Tom could not stand the sign of the man’s lingering evidence on her body. Jasper, Christian, Oliver, Marcus--- He could not believe her.

“You healed me?” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “ It’s just hickeys, Tom. They will heal on their own.”

Tom glared at her, placing his arms on her shoulders.” What’s wrong, Hermione?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What’s with you, Tom? I’m just your roommate, a friend. “ She said exasperatedly before taking something out of her beaded bag. “ I have a sober potion. I’m a witch. I can protect myself. “

“No, you can’t,” Tom argued before angrily shouting. “ You need to stop this drinking habit of yours, Hermione.”

She started laughing.

“Are you having a laugh at your own expense?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“No.” She muttered before sneering.” These are gutsy words from the man who drinks whiskey and smokes at the same time. “

Tom wondered how she knew of that but forgone that very thought.

“At least I am fully self-aware of my actions.” His words came to a low blow. “ Pretty girl. Smart witch and you can’t keep your legs closed. Do you even care about yourself anymore?”

“What I do in my own personal time is my business, Tom. “ She shook her head. “ Reducing yourself to slut-shaming me, haha how original. Let’s face it, Tommy. What do you want? Hmm you want sex? Do you want a blowjob? How about fucking me in the arse too? What is with you, Riddle? ”

_ Exactly that. Your body belongs to me.  _ He thinks to himself _.  _

“ What are you doing?” He glanced at the brunette. “You don’t care do you?”

“I do care.”She argued.

_ Do you, Hermione?  _

“You’re a fucking joke, Granger.”He spat. 

How could she reduce herself to no more than a common whore? She was HIS.

Tom saw red.

“It has never ever been a joke for me, Riddle.” Hermione sneered, jabbing her finger at him.

“Well come over to my school, I’m the headmaster!” Tom mocked. “You’re acting like an absolute idiot, Hermione.”

He could not understand how she was throwing herself around and not feel any sense of disgust towards herself.

“Your big problem is that you can’t handle the truth, you don’t like hearing it.”

“What truth? That I’m a slut? It’s what you’re insinuating to me “ She hissed before saying breathily. “You don’t even know me, Riddle.”

_ But I do, Hermione.  _ Tom thought to himself angrily.  _ I know you better than yourself. I know almost everything about you, Hermione.  _

Tom took in deep breaths, his voice suddenly soft. “ I think I do, Hermione. But just think over what you have done, not just to yourself but everyone around you. What would Lucretia say? Liza?”

It was right then, he noticed how close he was standing right next to her. Their bodies radiating heat. She smelled of a mix of alcohol, sex and jasmine. 

Hermione’s chest heaved up and down, her eyes catching his. That moment, she bites her lip silently. Tom's eyes darken.  _ And suddenly my trousers feel much tighter. _

Her palm runs over his oxford shirt, she presses her cheek onto his chest. Tom almost lets out a moan himself.

_ Control. Control. Control. _

She lets out a low sigh before murmuring.” Tom, why are you such a wanker?”

Her fingers tug at his shirt before suddenly her back is sent against the wall. 

The potion bottle smashes onto the floor, into smithereens. 

Those red lips of hers were soft, plump and absolutely perfect as he imagined. His hand instinctively reached behind and groped her arse,  _ hard.  _ Hermione lets out a soft squeak at that before moaning deeply into their kiss.

_ “We’re friends. You won’t hurt me. Tom?”  _

_ “We’re friends. You won’t hurt me. Tom?”  _

_ “We’re friends. You won't hurt me--  _

_ The lifeless eyes of her. _

_ Have I reached Nirvana?  _ He thinks to himself before he leans forward, kissing her sweet lips while gazing into her whiskey eyes. He dives straight in. 

When he opened his eyes, he saw himself seeing it _. _

He waded slowly through the ankle deep water, the frigid water soaked through his boots. 

The only source of fluorescent light in the room was focused on... _ it...him?  _ Right before the figure, stood a woman with those familiar bushy curls. Tom reaches his hand out to her, yelping when a biting sensation overcame him.

The monster's eyes are ruby red. Teeth razor sharp. Wrinkles overwritten its ghastly pale face. It held a sneer, shadowing over the petite witch. 

"Mudblood." The figure circled around her, he does not lay a finger on her. Its voice high, clear and cold. A serpentine hiss. " What have you done?"

"What have I done? What have I done?" She asked him impassively." You know exactly what you have done to me."

She tilts her head to meet the brute. The light meets her. On her cheek wrote a cut, bleeding red. Traces of dirt decorated it. Tom attempted to move but was held back by an impenetrable force. Her words held strangeness to it, she sounded nothing like his witch. 

The brunette said slowly." I had to do it. You know I had to." 

" So why have you?" The figure moves around, in a motion similar like a waltz. Its robes swivelled above the water. " Are you satisfied with yourself? For all the things you have done?"

"I had to!" A blurt comes out." You know that, V...."

The name blurs out with a static noise. When it passes, her voice is amplified. 

" You took my life away. Destroyed it in your bare hands." Raspy. Desperation. " I have  _ no one _ ."

" So why have you." Its finger grazed across her jawline. Tom yells. 

" Come back to help?" The expression it held was a chilling smile.

" Help?" She started to laugh."I didn't want to come back ! Watch me destroy you.”

"Monster." The brunette spat.

The figure started to let a shrill laugh that echoed throughout the room. " Is it you who you're talking about, Miss Granger?"

"I..." She murmured, looking blankly into its eyes. It leans down. Their lips meet. A throaty gasp she lets out, it pulls her closer by the neck. Its hands had settled upon her waist, her legs wrapped around his. She leans in deeper to the kiss. " Mhm..."

The girl entwined in the arms of the monster, kissing him passionately.

Tom felt bile rise up in his throat. Who was it? Who was that? The many whos and whys echoed throughout his very mind that was threatening to burst at the seams. 

Abruptly, her neck snapped towards him. Her eyes are narrowed, the monster's cold eyes facing back against him." What are you doing here, Tom? Get out of my mind!"

"Get out of my mind! Get out of my mind! Get out of my mind!" A wave of nausea overcame him.

He opened his eyes.

They widened, watching her pull away. A flash from the corner of his left eye impacted against his cheek with a loud ‘thwack’, echoing in the now silent room. He stares at her thunderous expression incredulously, his hand unconsciously rubbing against his cheek. It stings so much he winces, though whether from the slap or her anger he is uncertain. 

_ “ What have I told you before, Tom.” The matron warned. “ Reverend Francis told me about the incident at the Church.” _

_ “ Little boys don’t speak.” He droned. _

_ Nodding, her eyes narrowed at him. “ My dear, the line has been crossed. “ _

_ A harsh contact met his scrawny cheek. _

His facial expression hardened as he clenched his jaw, grunting. 

“How dare you.” She pointed her finger at him, her whiskey eyes brimming with tears. 

“I’m so s-sorry.” The last word comes out forced, pleading. Tom’s jaw twitched.” I’m sorry, Hermione…” 

“ If we don’t have trust, we have nothing.” Hermione shook her head, barely glancing at him.” J-just leave me, alone. Tom.” 

Her voice had reduced to a whimper.

Tom faintly nods, shaking his head while the reality settled in. Moving away from her while taking in deep breaths, Tom needed to control himself, for his temper was not something he wanted to take out on his witch. CONTROL. CONTROL. CONTROL.

_ Love isn’t a strong enough word.  _

_ Sometimes you do things to show your love.  _

_ The truth of the matter is that I fucked up, Hermione. I fucked up.  _

He sat down on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring down at the ground.

_ Is this what most people term it as ‘jealousy’? Have I really turned into one of those bumbling lovesick fools?  _

Tom pretends to not watch her but he does anyway.

_ Who was that? Who was it?  _

She was crawling back into the sheets silently,having taken a dreamless dream potion he had seen her take earlier. She tugs the cotton quilt over her head.

_ Is this another one of your secrets?  _ He thinks to himself.  _ Don't worry. I'll find out.  _

She shoves a pillow into her face. 

His fingers brushed against his swollen lips. 

_ Our first kiss.  _ He thinks.  _ An actual first stepping milestone in our relationship, Hermione. _

He grasps the glass tightly.

_ I can’t love. I never have, Hermione.  _

He sips the whiskey, it throbbed against his throat. He hisses.

_ Forget the head, listen to my heart.  _

_ Run the risk, if I get hurt, I’ll come back.  _

Tom’s dark blue eyes run over her. He saunters across the room and digs into the wardrobe.

He moves to the bed, his fingers grasp the quilt slightly and pull it down. An unknown smile creeps up, he sees her. 

_ I see you.  _

His rough fingertips unfastening the white blouse, revealing much of the milky skin of hers which brushed against it. 

_ So, boy meets girl.  _

Brasserie off with a soft click. 

_ Boy thinks this is something special.  _

His palm smoothes across the flat stomach of hers.

_ ‘Let me do everything I can to make this right’ He thinks.  _

The tight rayon skirt pulled down.

_ No matter how hard you fight me, I’ll always make sure you’re safe.  _

His lips curved at the pair of green lace covering her quim.

_ So I did.  _

He slides the silk nightgown up her petite body. 

Pulling the straps appropriately onto her shoulders, he traces his thumb against her jaw.

He does not think. 

He kisses her on the forehead. A soft mew came from her. He smiled as he tucked a curl behind her ear. He strokes those wild curls of her.

_ Here’s what I learnt about you, Hermione.  _

_ You are special. You are talented. You are passionate.  _

He cleans the makeup that had streaked across her pretty face with his magic.

_ You are smart.  _

_ Except in the ways you are not, for example being extremely stubborn when it comes to small things like being too lazy to do your chores.  _

He rubs lazy circles on her stomach, laying right next to her.

_ And falling for men like Scamander. You know better, but you can’t stop.  _

He sits up.

_ Because well, every witch needs a wizard.  _

He adjusts the pillow under her neck.

_ I can help, Hermione.  _

He pulls the quilt to her shoulders.

_ Let me help you.  _

He kisses her goodnight.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy HALLOWEEN!!
> 
> REVIEWS WELCOMED! IT HELPS ME A LOT, DON'T BE A SILENT READER! THANK YOU TO ALL WHO REVIEWED, ESPECIALLY BEETLE JUICEE WHO MADE ME REALISED THE EARLIER DRAFT WAS HORRID !!! MWAH.
> 
> HonestLy though, I have no clue when my next update might be. I might publish it when I finish this fic- we'll see. Anywho I'm also looking for a beta for this fan fiction , comment down if you're interested!!
> 
> LOVE, LISA


	8. You got me, sweetheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tom being a creep again loool, reread chapter 6 because I rewrote some parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BETA READING DONE BY 19LAMS5. THANKS BRO :)

Time ticked away, two days to December. The autumn leaves had been shed from trees, and most had taken to wearing thick jumpers and robes. Thirty hours since he had lost control. Thirty hours since he had held her gaze, much less spoken a single word.  
  


He _had_ regretted it, not the intrusion, no, but their current predicament. Intruding her privacy had dented his progress, though hopefully not fatally. The ghost of her warm breath pressed against his neck and burrowing into his ear still lingered. He would feel it in the flesh once again. Hermione would come back to him, be it willing or unwillingly. 

However, it appeared the early morning awakening from a particularly riveting dream about his witch seemed to worsen the circumstance Tom was stuck in. Add in imaginary blowjob and rough missionary created moans that echoed throughout the room. 

What was disturbing though was that in the dream; mirrors had surrounded Hermione and him while they were engaging in the aforementioned physical activities. When he came into her, he realised his face had morphed into the monster with red eyes. Tom gazed down at the brunette, written on her forehead was a bright red cutting ‘ THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.’ Her face was drained of colour, lifeless. 

As he jolted from his slumber, he realised a pair of wide whiskey eyes were staring back at him in seemingly shock as the coolness of the morning air greeted him. Brushing a hand through his dark brown locks, a groan came between his lips. The familiar wetness on the front of his pyjama pants felt sticky, his cheeks felt warm. 

The pink-looking brunette shook her head and shoved the pillow into her face. 

Tom reminded himself to place a silencing charm the next time he went to bed. 

A few hours later, Tom stood in front of a mirror. The frigid water dripped down his face. He watched his own lips move. “Well, now she knows.” Having her as a flatmate did not mean that he was willing to declare his interesting dreams.

How that dream turned into a nightmare, he had no idea. Being the heir of Salazar Slytherin, Tom had opened the Chamber Of Secrets during his sixth year. That was a step into ensuring his immortality. There were a couple of liabilities to be made of course, such as Myrtle Warren’s death that further aroused Dumbledore’s suspicions of him. It did not bother him much as it was his first successful horcrux. But Hermione being tied to Warren was distasteful, he told himself that. If anything, it made him edgier about her wellbeing.

There was the question of the monster he had seen from her mind. The mind was a vast vase of memories and feelings. He had read many, memories were usually jumbled and frazzled, from the ones he had seen in his followers. However Hermione’s memories were locked tightly, they were weaved together like a line. He had only been able to reach the stray string sticking out, the foreign feelings of hers. When he had stepped into the chamber that had puddled with water, he was overwhelmed with nothing but the strange feeling of what some may call ‘ regret’. The monster from her mind lingered in his thoughts, what was terrifying was he had turned into that monster in his nightmare. What was it? An ugly being that was significant enough for his witch to feel strongly about. It was revolting, Hermione should only be thinking of one man and that was Tom himself, not some monster. 

  
  


“Good morning, Hermione,” Tom greeted cheerily as he poured himself a glass of water. Sitting at the table and looking intently at her. She continued nibbling on her piece of toast, staring into blank space. Just as he was about to speak, she abruptly stood up, leaving the quarter of her toast uneaten. 

Tom curbed his anger at being ignored. He was Tom Riddle! The darling of Hogwarts! Women swooned over him, fought to curry his favour. How dare this mud--No, his anger had disrupted his progress once, and he would play nice for now. 

“Hermione,” he tried again. Seeing no result, he swallowed bitterly, choking out, “I’m sorry.” He was expecting something. A slap of anger. A few colourful expletives. Perhaps for her to break down crying. He resisted the urge to seeth openly at her cold shoulder, instead of settling for keeping his calm. After hearing the door slam and the distinct sound of her footsteps heading towards the stairs, he quickly cast several detection charms on her cabinet. _No charms, far too careless for my future wife, but we can work on that later._

_THURSDAY- 0630 MEETING WITH DUMBLEDORE AT PUDDIFOOTS_

_0800- 1700 CLIENT APPOINTMENT- MRS CHRISTY_

Tom found himself sipping an espresso, cringing at the disgustingly pink exterior of the cafe. The bitterness of the coffee hardly compared to the wrath he felt at the situation forced upon him. But it was necessary, for him to keep his witch safe. 

A modified sonorous spell placed on the fiery brunette and the old coot, allowed Tom to join in their conversation discreetly.

“Professor, thank you very much for your concern.” Hermione said, smiling.” I’m doing well, thank you.”

“Glad to hear that, Miss Granger. I was quite frankly concerned when I heard of your case from a ministry associate. Flats these days haven’t reached a decent standard of regulation. When I was your age, I myself had to find a flat too. Let be straightforward with you, the bed was horrid!” The man with the eccentric auburn hair chuckled. “ What about your living arrangements for now, Miss Granger? The ministry has been on a slow roll these days. I think one can only expect your flat to be opened up next year.”

“I’m staying with a friend,” Hermione murmured. 

Tom raised an eyebrow.

“She has generously offered me space in her flat.” She stated, taking a sip of her tea. 

Dumbledore nods,” I do hope you find yourself settling in here. Currently, both my research and Nicholas tells me that a way back home might not be possible.”

Tom squinted. What was that old fool on about? Did he truly know what was Hermione’s background? If so, he wanted to know why Hermione was lying to him. Him, of all people! He deserved to know the truth and it will definitely come to him. His witch had the all-so-intelligent, critically acclaimed Albus Dumbledore fooled about her current whereabouts, though he was curious as to why she would want to hide such a detail. Still, his heart fluttered, she truly was fitting for him.

  
  


“Oh.” Hermione stared at him, seemingly speechless. “There truly is no way back?”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“ Unfortunately we are not quite sure yet. “ Dumbledore sighed, crossing his arms. “ But for the foreseeable future, this is your home.”

The brunette frowned. 

“ Is it that bad here?” Dumbledore asked, forking a piece of his key lime pie. “Personally this mishap could do wonders for you, Miss Granger. I truly don’t believe there was any way your old world could have survived. Maybe this is a fresh start. Maybe this is what you need, Miss Granger.”

He dropped the fork on the plate and placed his hand on her shoulder, Hermione tilted her head to look at the professor. “ You need to let go of it.”

Her body stiffens as Tom’s fists curled. He wanted to peel the man’s fingers off her and break all of the little ligaments under the skin.

“There’s no point dwelling over what has happened.” Dumbledore moved back, his hand back on the fork. He raises his eye.” Miss Granger?”

“R-right.” Hermione nodded, murmuring.” It’s j-just… I miss my friends. My family. Here it’s a whole new world.”

“I understand that it’s going to be difficult for you to accept this and adapt. If you need any form of any financial assistance or support, Miss Granger.” He said, chewing. “My reply is an owl’s letter away.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. He could take care of Hermione very well himself, mind you meddlesome old fool. There was no Dumbledore in this equation. 

“Professor.”

“Yes, Miss Granger?”  
  


“About him.” She paused before continuing.” Do you have any plans?”

“No.” He muttered, looking away. “ Miss Granger, I do not.”

“Why?” She pressed, leaning closer. “ People’s lives are at stake, sir. I suppose you are the only person around who is capable of defeating him, so why not? Why not try?”

“Miss Granger. I don’t wish to further discuss this matter with you.” Dumbledore stated, he takes a final sip of his tea.

“Over in Germany and France, muggles are hurt! Hunted! Handled like animals.” Hermione snapped. She places her hands on the table, glaring back at him. “Professor, I know you care. I know you do because you knew it yourself that I was going to walk into this cafe today and demand this. I--”

“You are mistaken, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows. He said firmly.” If that will be all, you can leave.”

“Very well.” Hermione shook her head before grabbing her coat and looking him in the eye once more, letting it out exasperatedly.” But please Professor, just think over what I’ve said. Give it a shot.”

“Miss Granger.” He does not meet her gaze. He said coldly. ” See you then.”

Tom narrows his eyes at the scene, watching the old man thrust his head into his hands. Fitting for a lunatic he was, prancing around the lives of others like it was no more than a chess game. 

He rolls his eyes before they return to following Hermione’s retreating steps from the cafe. 

She would be at Mrs Christy’s house doing some translation work for her company’s records, he knew. He had checked her appointment schedule for that very week. He would not need to check in on her during his shift breaks. 

Tom brings the cup to his lips, he looks down in the black concoction. He winces. _Do people actually like to drink this?_

However, it was the cheapest drink on the menu of this ridiculously overpriced cafe. He shrugged to himself. He got what he paid for.

Her brave words so blunt towards the meddlesome fool, her feistiness a quality he wanted to see in their bedroom. Being a muggle born herself, he expected her to be an activist for the many happenings in Europe. After all she was Hermione Granger, strong independent witch. He bet she would do well when being roped into his followers, she would be the stunning gem in his circle. She would not even know herself, that was the best part of it. However, from what he had heard from the conversation Tom was concerned. What did Hermione meant about missing home? Why was she of all people, telling Dumbledore about her personal background and not Tom himself?

He had so many questions for his witch, one day he would find out the answers to them.

At the corner of his eye, the black headlines of the DAILY PROPHET peek out. 

> ****
> 
> **DARK WIZARD GRINDELWALD TAKES OVER THE GERMAN MINISTRY OF MAGIC**
> 
> **There was terror throughout the streets of Berlin on Wednesday as the power struggle between German Minister For Magic Leon Schmidt and Gellert Grindelwald has subsided. At midnight, Minister Schmidt announced that he would be handing over his position to Grindelwald, in a bid to prevent more threats of attacks on muggle villages situated in Germany.**
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> **Gellert Grindelwald, who has been responsible for the global wizarding war has said that his rule would be a blessing for his fellow wizards and witches of Deutschland. He has also announced that reeducation camps for muggle-borns will be opened, starting from the capital Berlin itself. He said.” Mass vocational education and training are necessary for the integration of muggle-borns into society. I urge Ministries over the world to follow under my step. If this precaution is not taken, the threat against wizardkind is imminent. Muggles will be the death of us.”**

The man was absolutely delusional like the meddlesome fool Dumbledore, Tom scoffed. People were scared of him? Eventually, the world would come to see that Grindelwald was a weak fool who was prancing around with silly ineffective ideas. The muggleborn vocational camps would be a step into dissolving his supporters' trust. He wondered if Dumbledore and him were friends because for the way this man was acting, he held very busybody Dumbledore-like qualities. 

An awfully cheery voice awoke him from his train of thoughts. 

“Good morning, Tom. It has been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

“Professor Dumbledore.” He places the mug on the table. “ What are you doing here?”

“Getting some quick grub before classes start.” Dumbledore replied.” What about you, Tom? How’s life been for you? How’s work at Borgins going for you?”

_Knowing your enemy. Of course, when it comes to Dumbledore- he always knows every single aspect of my little life._ Tom sniggered internally to himself. _Could he just let me be? Does the man not do anything else besides messing with his plans?_

“ I have a shift later at 10. Feeling peckish, wanted a chocolate au pain.” He shrugged before raising the mug to meet his lips. “ All has been going great for me, professor. Don’t you worry about it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Ah, one of the better desserts here at Puddifoot’s. The Chocolate Au pains. ” The auburn-haired man snaps his fingers, smiling. “ So, how do you find Miss Granger, Tom?”

The warm coffee Tom had just drank threatened to be spat out at that moment. 

“E-excuse me, who are you talking about? I have not known such a person in my life.” His voice was initially a stammer before he fully composed himself. “ Who is this Miss Granger, Professor?”

“ You know who I am talking about, Tom.” Dumbledore said, winking at him.” She’s great,isn’t she?”

He narrowed his eyes at the old man. 

“ Talk to her.” Dumbledore tells him.” Miss Granger needs someone right now. I think you could do that for her, won’t you Tom?”

“Mhm.” He grunted. A no go topic for discussions with the old coot would be Hermione. Besides, was he not too old for her? For Salazar’s sake, he could be her grandfather at that age! Whatever Dumbledore’s interest in Hermione and especially their relationship might be, an eerie feeling stayed within him.

“ She’s a sweet girl who has been through a lot of trauma recently. I don’t think Miss Granger has told you of that, has she?” Dumbledore said.

An answer does not come back from Tom. Discussing his love life with Busybody Dumbledore was the last item on his to-do-list.

“ Tom. I have been your professor for years.” Dumbledore chortled.” Don’t think you can fool me. I can see it right though you.”

Tom pressed his lips into a thin line. He had always been able to evade the man’s meddlesome ways that often disturbed his plans but he knew he would triumph in this war between them. 

“ Follow your heart, Tom. Miss Granger and you might find a friend in each other, maybe even something more. “ The old man’s blue eyes held a bright twinkle, he gave a few hard taps on the shoulder. “Take care of her and yourself.”

“Classes start soon. I’m afraid I have to leave now. “ He stands up, smiling. “Have a good day ahead of you, Tom. I wish you all the best.”

For what happened next, Tom did not expect.

“ Remember, Tom.” He whispered.” Stalking her isn’t a way to gain Miss Granger’s trust. There’s a thin line between obsession and love. Don’t push it.”

Tom watches his back step out into the cold before slamming his fist down onto the table, rattling the plate holding the half eaten dessert. 

* * *

How did Busybody Dumbledore know? Tom was so sure that his actions revolving following Hermione was discreet. Disillusion spell, a notice-me-not, his modified sonorous spell… besides, what he and Hermione was neither of what the man said. Obsession from the tales of Mania, least of all it was not what many in the world call 'love'. No, he did not love her. Hermione was special, yes but Tom did not love her. The sound of the word on his mind was a guttural mess. They two were different. He was not quite sure what they were, but it was definitely not love no- Tom was just content with her happily by his side. If she was even speaking a word to him, of course.

In the meantime, Tom was following Hermione once more. His work day had been awfully mundane, turns out Hepzibah was yet to be seen and he had to be stuck with a bunch of haggling hags and Dumbledorelike-know-it-all hoots.

He still had to make sure Hermione stayed nowhere near a single bar.

When his point-me-spell directed him to his favourite brunette, a familiar deep voice came running back in the back alley.

Warrington confronted her.” Kiss me, I know you want to.”

“Piss off!”She yelled.” What the hell are we doing here, Marcus?”

“I found your side of my bed empty when I woke up.” He said. “ A good shag might suffice, Hermione.”

“Don’t call me that.” She warned. 

“Well then, what do you want me to call you then?” He asked sarcastically.” How does mudslut sound?”

“A prick that you are, Marcus..” Hermione sneered. “This, that night was a mistake.”

“I don’t remember you particularly regretting it, mudblood.” He laughs darkly.” In fact, you even asked me to give you a good pounding. “

Grabbing her arm and magicking her wand into his open hand. She yelped as he spinned her around roughly. “I can do that right now. “

“Take your hands off me, Marcus.” She muttered firmly.

“Listen to me, Mudblood. I’d be around you, whether you like it or not.” He said,pulling her back to his chest. “Let’s be cordial as adults.”

It was interesting because the way Tom saw it, he definitely was not going to be around for long. And cordial? They two were a long way from cordial.

Tom marched into the alley, grunting. 

“That’s enough. She said let go of her.”

Hermione lets out a loud groan, wincing. 

“Ah who’s this?” Warrington taunted.” What if I don’t? What are you going to do about it then?”

_________

TWO MONTHS AGO

_19 September. Your birthday._

Clouds grazed the blue horizon above him as Tom strolled along the street silently. 

A wrapped bouquet tucked underneath his arm, a box in his grasp. The man blew smoke into the air, a fag hanging from his lips.

Swanky flats lined along the deserted street that they were passing through, it was the perfect opportunity for his plans to come to fruition.

Had the oblivious man paid attention to the sudden warmness behind him, he would have noticed the movement of lips that murmured a quick stunning spell.

The burning cigarette fell to the pavement, along with the white box that fell with a loud thud. Chocolate cake and a bunch of violet-hued flowers laid abandoned on the street where Galton Scamander once lived.

  
  


* * *

A few groans came from the slumped figure as cobalt-blue eyes watched. 

“W-what where am I?” The man strained his neck up, his face turned a shade of grey. His body had been stripped down to his undershirt and trousers. 

Red sprinkles of powdered cassava and chopped up hemlock had circled unknowingly around him.

“W-who is there?” His finger absentmindedly jabbed. 

The room was bare, a limp yellow lamp hanging above in the middle. Tom steps out of the shadows and into the light. On his face, held an impassive expression.

A shaking mass of muscles pressed his hands onto the worn-out wood, his limbs struggle and quiver. He reaches an arm out of the circle. It bites back at him. Loud strains of agony came from the abused vocal cords as bubbles of pus started to form on his face.

  
  


_Add in a pinch of my signature warding spell to the magic circle draining out his magic, Hermione._

_I just knew that Scamander was the worst kind of poison that had seeped into your life._

_So I did what I had to do to help you, Hermione._

“ Let me out of here, you sick fuck!” A yell comes from him.

_And now there is a man-child placed in my Uncle’s cabin._

A symphony of repeated yells echoed throughout the shack.

“Shout all you want, Scamander.” Tom said.” There is a silencing spell placed here.”

An exasperated groan. “ I don’t know who you are and what you are. But I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, _I swear_ so please let me out of here. “

Tom raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll give you my Gringotts account. Take whatever you want from me.” 

_Of course, he thinks money is an issue for me._

“My parents…”

“Newton Scamander, author of the well-acclaimed book _Fantastic beasts and where to find them_ and magizoologist. Porpentina Goldstein, Head Auror of the Ministry Of Magic?” He interrupted. 

“We have villas all around the world. Santorini, Tuscany. Anything you want.” The man held up his hands, kneeling on his knees. 

Legs striding casually across the room, Tom looked down. “ What are you, Scamander?”

“W-what…” Scamander pleaded. ” Just let me out of here, whoever you are.” 

“You are not a murderer. ” He breathed out.

Tom wished badly he was, for this would have been an easy task to slice upon his neck.

“Let me out of here. Not a single detail of this will go out, I promise you.”

“Did you really think I’ll believe that, Scamander?” Tom asked. “ All Ds back and front of OWLS and NEWTS.”

The man looked apprehensively at him, stammering. “ Please, I don’t know who you are…wait, I remember you. I remember you!”

His fingers brushed through his wet red brown hair. He points a finger at Tom, whose Adam's apple was currently bobbing up and down.

“ Fuck! You were there that night, that little girl Annika mentioned your name… the healer… yes, Strix!”

_BING BING BING!10 points from Ravenclaw! How do you even get by life, Scamander? Having said that you have made it to 18._

“If you’re doing this for Hermione. She’s yours. We’re not in a relationship together. She’s not special. Have her. Take her! But why ruin your life and risking a one way ticket to Azkaban for fucking Hermione Granger?”

“Galton, you’re pathetic.” Tom paused before continuing.” Do you think that’s going to work?”

Pandering to his favouritism of Hermione was an ineffective way of pleasing Tom. In actuality, it frustrated him even more. He grunted, casting a slicing hex towards Scamander, pleased that it added red iron to the collection of the beautiful pus on his body.

“I-I’m sorry, a-alright? Please let me out…” The man begged.” It’s my g-girlfriend’s birthday tonight...and I don’t want to m-miss it…”

Tom did not believe a single word of his. Scamander cared for his witch? That was an unbelievable sentence in itself. He planned this for a long time, after seeing how much his poor Hermione had suffered under this mad man’s hands. He would make him suffer and wished he had never lived. 

“Lived well, Galton. After the last eighteen years of your life, I think it’s time for you to go.”

Staring at him, parting his mouth slightly, gasping. “ Please. Please. Please don’t kill me, I’ll g-give anything.”

“Give, give, give. “ Tom shook his head, clicking his tongue. He narrowed his eyes at the imbecile, sneering. “ Is there anything else you can do besides wasting your inheritance away on cocaine and toying with the lives of the women around you?”

“What? I have never done--”

His ignorance further angered Tom, was he not capable of not feeling remorse? After all he had done?

“I have thought long and hard about you. Here’s a proposal, this is only one solution to this finicky situation you have landed yourself into, Scamander. If you listen and do what I want, I’ll let you out.” Scamander gazed at him, face pale as a ghost. 

“Of course, let _thi_ s be clear that you will do every single thing I say.” 

Aside from the boils crawling across his skin, every nerve of his was set on fire. The man squirmed and flailed his arms wildly, screaming his lungs out. Blood foamed at his lips. 

Tom smiled brightly. _A happy birthday to you Hermione, indeed._

________________

_There you are in a strapped periwinkle dress, in your big naked windows with your curtains aside._

_“He’s late again. I told him to be here at 5.” The brunette sighed as she paced anxiously across her flat._

_“ Typical Galton.” Kowalski rolled her eyes._

_“ Have you heard anything from Galton yet, Liza?” She asked, frowning. “ He told me he would be here.”_

_“I’m sure he’ll be able to make it. Don’t you worry, Hermione. “ Kowalski gave her a sympathetic pat on the back as the brunette rubbed against her cheek, averting her gaze to the other two.” Ladies, how about we get started with the champagne?”_

_“Come on, Hermione.” The blonde guided her to the couch. “Trust me. Galton and I have been friends before we could even walk. He won't miss it. It’s your birthday after all, Hermione.”_

_Not on my watch. Tom peered closer into the window, warmness hugging him from the strong disillusion spell. I will do everything to make sure your birthday goes perfect._

_Turning on the radio to play an upbeat song, Kowalski magicked the glittery gold drink into glasses._

_Lucretia nudged a glass at Hermione, who profusely waved her hand at. She said exasperatedly.” Who doesn’t drink alcohol at a party? It’s your day, Mione. Let’s celebrate, instead of sulking over Galton!”_

_“Pretty please.” She pleaded._

_Kowalski nudged it onto her palm.” She’s right, Hermione. Drink, you need it.”_

_The brunette faintly nodded and sipped._

_“Did Galton say he’s bringing the cake?” Isobel piped._

_Hermione sulked even more, as if she was burrowing herself into the couch. She downed the drink in one go._

_“Isobel, shh!” Kowalski and Lucretia hissed, with the blonde moving across her neck with a cut-it-off hand gesture._

_Sometimes when I see your friends, I find myself falling into a rabbit hole of stupidity. Tom thought to himself before a large fleeing creature swooped in above his head. He ducked, watching the grey owl peck incessantly on the window with loud hoots._

_“There’s an owl for you, Hermione!” A yell comes out._

_The windows opened out with a pop. Tom’s peered up, biting his tongue. The blonde gazes around, seemingly searching for someone before taking the letter from the owl. It swallowed down the large cracker with loud cracks._

_When the owl flew away, Tom stood up and stared into the flat once more._

_The brunette burst into tears after reading the letter, huddled on the squeaky sofa with strings of sickly empathy came from her entourage of friends._

_“Salazar, what a bastard!” Lucretia gasped, after snatching the letter from Hermione. She mocked in a high pitched voice. “ ‘ Dear Hermione, I don’t think this is really working. I am sorry, I don’t feel the same way about you anymore. I like you but you are just not the perfect girl for me. Weeks ago, I found a girl who I could really connect with. Her name is Michele and we decided we are going to move back to her home in Spain forever. Don’t come and find me, alright? We are done and over. Love, Galton. P.S thanks for the shags!’ Thanks for the shags? Thanks for the shags? He even used an exclamation mark! What the fuck, Galton Lorcan fucking Scamander? I can’t believe him, Hermione. On your birthday, of all days…”_

_“Give that to me.” Kowalski snatched the letter from her. She scrutinised.” I have no words to say.”_

_Isobel hugged the brunette tightly as she cried into the older woman’s shoulder._

_“I swear Salazar- the next time I visit Barcelona, I will hunt him down. Don’t you worry, Hermione.” Lucretia declared. “ Geez, investing all in your time in this stupid stupid man!”_

_Her cries amplified._

_“Breath, Lucretia.” Kowalski crossed her arms. She tosses the letter haphazardly onto the coffee table, saying firmly. “ We are not going to let Galton ruin Hermione’s birthday.”_

_Lucretia nodded determinedly.” Ladies, tonight is a no-man zone. Let’s forget this sick man and focus on making Hermione happy.”_

_“I’ll go get the flour.” Kolwalski walked towards the tiny kitchen._

_“Atta girl.” Lucretia said before turning to Hermione who faced her, mascara streaking down her pale cheeks. “ Hermione, you’re a strong independent woman. You can do anything. You do not need a man to be content.”_

_“Where’s the Hermione Granger I know of? Get your bum off and forget about him. I believe in you and so does everyone around you. No excuses. “ She said firmly. The brunette faintly nodded, brushing her knuckles against her tears as her friend held her._

_“O-OK,” Hermione stammered.” Hermione, you can do this. You’re the smartest witch of your age. Nothing can destroy you.”_

_“Nothing can destroy you.” Lucretia smiled._

_“Now follow us to the kitchen.” She gestured towards the brunette. She said absentmindedly.” How does chocolate cake sound to you, Hermione? I have my grand mama’s recipe in this head. It’s the best I ever had!”_

_PLAN A was a smooth success, Tom had to admit. With Scamander out of the picture, there was room for him in her life.. At first, it won’t be easy, he knew. But just as Mrs Cole always told them at Wools, a problem is an opportunity for anyone to perform their best._

_He would use every tool within his disposal to remove any obstacle that stands between him and her._

_That being said, Galton is far far away from you so don’t you worry your pretty little head over this, Hermione. Tom watched them._

_Purple streaks had grazed across the sky when the candles were lit. Tom closed his eyes._

_“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you, Hermione. Happy birthday to you!” His rough hands on her shoulders, a peck on the neck. He would smile genuinely, pull her closer to his body._

_“Make a wish! ” Lucretia told her. He would kiss her full on the lips while her friends blushed with Kowalski glaring after him._

_The brunette clasped her hands together and shut her eyes. Her facial expression relaxes, releasing all of the lines that had previously formed. The candles went out in a snuff. She smiled at him._

_His vision returned to reality. A pretty brunette surrounded by three witches, waiting to be saved from the travesty that was her life._

* * *

  
  


_The days of being with a man who doesn’t value you ,those are over._

“ I won’t repeat my words twice.” Tom said slowly, his fingers on the yew.” Get away from Hermione.”

“What are you going to do about it then, huh?” Warrington snorts,releasing her. He met him at eye level. “Big man. Can’t even keep your witch from being a fucking slag. You both deserve each other.”

  
  


“Useless.” 

A loud spat of phlegm onto his boots, Tom continued glaring at the man.

“Take your slut and bring her back to the brothel in Knockturn.” He snarled, moving away from the couple but not before shoving Hermione roughly to the ground. She fell with a loud yelp, Tom immediately moved towards her with a comforting hand on her shoulder. He lifted his eyes.

Warrington digs into his pocket, throws a few knuts, along with the wand at her. They clatter on the gravel. ” Thanks for the shag, mudblood whore. You give good head, by the way.”

“Just so you know.” He looked at Tom, whose eyes had narrowed into slits. 

When the man had disappeared, he picked the wand up and handed it to the brunette. After helping Hermione up, he held onto her. He hugged her. “ I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

He never wanted to let go of her. His Hermione. Oh did he missed her sweet scent of jasmine and warmness. 

“Tom.” She shoved her hands against his chest.” How did you know I was here?”

“Coincidence.” He shrugged his shoulders. He lied.” I heard your shouting. There’s no other witch that sounds like my fellow room mate.”

“Really?” Hermione questioned. “ Tom, don’t lie to me.”

He needed to. Lies were necessary in his life. He wanted his witch back, so badly.

“I’m not lying, Hermione.” He said exasperatedly, baring his puppy eyes. “ I’m sorry if--”

“It’s fine, Tom-- really, it’s fine.” Hermione pushed him away, scourgifying the dirt off herself, strolling off.

She could not just go off then, he needed to explain himself. She would believe him. She was Hermione, after all. She would understand. 

He pulled on her arm. “Hermione--”

“Tom.” She turned on her heel, she glared at him.” What do you want?”  
  


The harshness of her tone tugs at his heart. He missed her sweet soft words. He took in a deep breath. 

_Here we go, Tom. Your redemption card. Up the theatrics._

“I’m sorry, alright? I’m truly sorry.” He forced out.” I am a selfish man and I have to admit I didn’t consider your thoughts and feelings. Questioning your behaviour when you are a witch who is free to do whatever she wants. I’m sorry for reading your mind, that’s just not who I am. I-I just slipped, Hermione. I wanted to know you. I wanted to know you better but I was so scared that I was going to lose the only friend that I ever had in my entire life!”

“I read your mind because I hold myself to your safety.” He told her.” The wizards in Wizarding Britain are not nice. They will eat you up an American witch at the sight of her. I have seen this happen to so many witches, I couldn’t let that happen to you Hermione.”

“ There’s no need for your protection, Tom.” She scoffed.” I can take care of myself.”

“Alright, I understand. I won’t do this ever again. The mind-reading and my over assertiveness regarding your actions. But just forgive me Hermione, please? I promise you I won’t do it again, I swear on Salazar’s name.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow as if in disbelief. 

“Listen, I’ll even do an unbreakable vow if you don’t believe me Hermione.” Tom pleaded. “Please forgive me.”

His voice leaked of extreme desperation. He needed Hermione. He needed her. He needed her to live.

She sighed, shaking her head. “ Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you, Tom.”

“Hermione…”

“Fine, you’re forgiven,” Hermione said firmly. “But this doesn’t mean that you can go back to your attempts to dictate my life, Tom.”

He nodded profusely. “ I promise you, Hermione. I will not disappoint you.”

“ I’ll hold you to that.” Hermione sighed. 

Yes! He knew it would be easy, after all he was the charming lovable Tom Riddle. Hermione was back into his arms again. It would take some time for her to warm up to him again but it was fine, she was back. Hermione was back. He wanted to celebrate this victory, with her. 

“Tell you what,” Tom said.” I’ll cook a special dinner for us tonight, Hermione, to make it up to you. Just you and me. How does that sound to you?”

He had intended to do a roast the night when he found her unconscious. This was his opportunity to have a home cooked meal with his witch, the first to many. He needed to show her that he was the man who was going to take care of her. 

A small gentle smile appeared on her face, she crossed her arms.” I would like that, Tom.”

“Great.” Tom fingered his wand before placing it back into his pocket. “See you back in the flat at... 8.”

In between his Hermione priorities, he had forgotten about a special someone who was waiting for him.

“Hmm, it’s getting late though. Where are you going, Tom?” She muses.

“Getting some groceries from the market. Uh, some potion ingredients.” He supplied. “ Don’t you worry, Hermione. I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, why don’t you visit Flourish and Botts? I heard that Anna Jorkins had just released a new collection.”

“Well then.” Hermione nodded.” I suppose I’ll see you soon, Tom. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Hermione.” A wave from him, to which she returns with a wave and her smile.

_There you went, back into your life where the danger lies like Warrington. You got me, sweetheart. I will not let you succumb to it._

He watches her slowly make a turn back into Diagon Alley. 

* * *

“Mhm,” Annika moaned. 

_“This is a brilliant book, Mr Riddle!_ ” She hissed excitedly with a piece of white bread hanging from her mouth. _“ Didn’t know that unicorns could be used for potion making!”_

_“Their horns.”_ He corrected before asking.” _Do you remember which potions require the unicorn horns?”_

“Hmm…” She hums, taking a bite of the bread. _“ Unicorn horns are used as ingredients for common poison antidotes. Draught of Peace. Wi-w_ iggenield potion and...yes, the Oculus potion.”

Talking to the child had been something he had been looking forward to these days. A parseltongue buddy. Yes, it sounded a little creepy but his attention was nothing of that nature. He saw her as a hidden potential, begging to be developed. She was his student, a student who was the only other person he knew could speak his language. Sometimes he saw bits and pieces of him in her. He wanted to teach her everything he knew. 

_“ What are the examples of Common poisons then, Miss Annika?”_ _  
  
_

_“Creature bites and stings.”_ She replied, gobbling the entirety of the bread up.

Tom grinned. _“ You’re on your way to making a fine potioneer yourself, Miss Annika.”_

Annika smiled before it was dissolved into a look of worry. She hissed. ” _Hey, Mr Riddle. Did you see Nagini?”_

His heart skipped a beat upon the mention of her familiar. 

_“No, I haven’t seen her. I wonder where she is?_ ” He said, frowning. 

_“Never mind, Mr Riddle.”_ She shook her head, closing her eyes. Emerald scaled serpent landed in her hands.Tom’s jaw dropped. _Wandless magic at nine?_

She was definitely learning from him, he mused quietly to himself. 

_“Nagini, I was so worried about you. Where did you go?” Annika prodded the snake who was wrapping herself around the wrist , she wagged a tiny finger at her, hissing. “ If I had a cage, I would put you in it!”_

_“Miss, I am sorry… Nagini has entered your flat to keep guard. There’s no time to explain, Miss. Your father… he’s awake and...we know what he wants from you. Miss, you must go back lest he makes you do it again.”_ She warned. _“Miss, hurry.”_

_“Nagini--”_

All of a sudden, a loud slam of the door caught their attention. 

From his peripheral vision, he could catch a glimpse of a miniature snake swiftly sliding into her skirt pocket.

“Annika, where the fuck were you?” 

The girl froze.

Standing behind the gulping girl was a sweaty big mess of muscle, bulging bloodshot eyes. Thick stubble across his jaw. Blonde hair matted with sweat and Salazar knows what. His meaty hand pounded heavily against the door. He averts his gaze from the sitting girl and onto Tom who was staring intently at him.

“ Who the fuck is this, Annika?” He yelled, lowering his gaze to the startled girl. “ Have you been talking to strangers again? “

Murmuring incomprehensible words, the man lets out a loud grunt. 

Annika mouthed back to Tom. “Don’t answer him. He’ll just get more pissed.”

“Answer me, girl!” He abruptly pulled on her ear, she let out a shrill cry. “Father!”

Tom stood up, towering over the man. “ Leave your hands off Miss Annika.”

The child whimpered as her father tugged on her ear.” Keep your mouth shut, slut.”

“Excuse me if I’m concerned, but you use corporal punishment on your daughter?” Tom placed his hands in his pockets, the right ready to strike. “ It’s unhealthy.”

“Our family business doesn’t concern you, freak.” He sneered. Tom looked at him up and down. The last word was like air.

Receding hairline, check. Has not showered in days, check. Discreet about matters that Tom could see through, check. He internally blanched, remembering his disgusting Uncle Morfin. Uncle Morfin and this ‘Father’, namely Howard Haze were identical. If not, Tom was sure Haze was worse. At least Morfin kept his hands to himself. 

  
  


“Sir.” Tom said intently.” She’s your daughter.”

“And she’s not yours.” Howard sneered before his head snapped towards Annika.” Well, what are you waiting there for? A show? Get your fucking arse inside, slut!”

Annika dashed into the flat. 

“Stay away from _my_ daughter, you _sicko_.” Howard said, stepping closer to Tom. He raised his fist. “ Or else you will regret it.”

“Understandable, have a good day ahead of you Sir.” Tom replied. “By the way just to be clear, I don’t think I’m not the only one here who knows what goes on inside that flat. “

“ Get out.” He seethed, Tom raised his hands in mock defeat.” Okay, I get you.”

The door snapped back into place. As he strolled onto the foregrounds, a chill ran down his spine as he heard a loud feminine scream from behind.

* * *

A strong mix of rosemary and thyme filled the air.

The soft click of a door alerts him. “It smells nice in here!”

He walked out of the kitchen, patting his hands dry with a towel. “Hello, Hermione. I see you have made quite a purchase there.”

“The collection you said,” Hermione smiled at him as she took off her heels. “ Was quite intriguing. Decided to run with the wind.”

She hung her coat on the rack, magicking her paper bag on the bed.” It’s chilly these days. Brrrrr!”

Tom chuckled, grinning at her. _What makes you special to me, Hermione is that there are these moments that you are just so cute._

“ So what have you roasted, Tom?” She asked, tying her hair up into a bun. “ I would help if I could. “

She sighed.” I don’t think I have told anyone about this but the great Hermione Granger cooking would probably lead to a kitchen fire.”

Well, Tom knew that. 

He smiled.” I’m sure I can find you something easy enough not to mess up.”

A large bowl of chocolate pudding laid on the counter which was currently being stirred by dainty hands. 

“ Aren’t you a witch?” Tom raised an eyebrow, peeking from behind.” Why do it by hand?”

Hermione shook her head at him, tutting. “ Don’t be lazy, Tom. I like doing things the muggle way.”

He chuckled. “ I guess I am, Hermione.”

“So how was your day?” She asked. “ I for one just accomplished my first corporate runic assignment!”

A sigh letting out,” That would be more than enough for the rent.”

“I don’t do rent here, Hermione.” He told her.” Your stay here- it’s free.”

She hummed.” That’s good to hear.”

Her lip bitten, Tom stared at her. He senses something amiss. Was she hiding something from him? It was not the first time she had done this. 

Patience was a virtue, he told himself. Hermione would warm up to him herself. It was a certainty.

The loud ring of the oven prompted him to wordlessly open it and bring out the steaming chicken.

“I’ll set the table.” Hermione volunteered, Tom nodded.

A white table cloth flung over the shaky wooden table, plain metal cutlery lined with a generic white plate placed between them. She sat as she magicked a bottle of wine over, winking at Tom.” I have to have it.”

Tom chuckled before sitting down at the other end of the table. He turned on the wizarding wireless, a soft tune played. 

As they dug into their dinner and wine, Tom and Hermione made small talk.

“So Lucretia and I actually became friends over the love of kittens.” She smiled. “ I had a kitty once. It was the most adorable cat ever, I swear. “

“What was its name?” He prompted.

“Uh, Tom. “ She said hotly. ” Crookshanks was a he.” 

“Point taken.” He shrugged. 

“Anyway, stepping into the pet shop, every single creature in there was fluffy and UGHH-- Unfortunately, my parents told me I could only own one.” She sighed. “ When I asked the shopkeeper for a special pet. He pointed me towards Crooks who was just a tiny kitten. He told me that Crooks had been staying in the shop for some time and that nobody wanted him. At that moment, I realised Crookshanks was the one for me. “

“I miss him sometimes.” A small smile tugging at her lips as she drank her wine. 

Remembering Hermione’s conversation with Dumbledore that morning, Tom knew it was a chance to be taken.

“Do you miss home?”He asked.

The smile remained,” Yes. I miss it a lot. “

He watches a tear stream down her cheek, to which she rubbed away. “I’m s-sorry if I get a little too emotional sometimes.”

“It’s fine, Hermione.” Tom assured her.” It’s fine.”

She bites into the chicken.” Mhm, it’s delicious. How do you make this god-sent dish, Tom?”

‘Eh, a couple of whiskeys and will power usually gets me going.” Tom chuckles. “ I learnt it by myself.”

“I thought your mother taught you.” 

That was when Tom zoomed out, his ears rang. He stammered,” What?”

“I said I thought your mother taught you how to cook.” She said.

“Oh, right.” He stated before continuing.” Well, Hermione. My mother did not. “

She nodded. Tom was uncertain about this particular topic, he had not talked about his mother often with anyone, himself included. Rationality told him to shut up. However, this was Hermione he was talking to. His crush. His witch. His mud blood. So, what was this mumbo jumbo about? Did she have a right to know about his background, since he knew hers? Tom was admittedly confused for the first time in his life.

“Tom.” She started, staring at him for several long moments. ” This morning, I heard you...uh--”

“To be forgotten,” He interrupted, a tinge of pink tainting his cheeks.” I’m sorry if you felt uncomfortable.”

“Well.” Hermione cleared her throat before muttering under her breath,” At least you like me enough for me to appear in your wet dreams.”

He blurts out. “ Isn’t it obvious?”

Eyes widening, she stammered.” That’s great to hear, Tom.”

Could this be considered hope? All he wanted was some validation from her. 

"A few days ago, about our snog- it was nice." She said shyly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Hermione loved it. That little witch loved it. Her sweet lips kissing him right then was expected. However, that did not happen.

Her head tilted down, she muttered. " But Tom, what was that?"

"What's what?" He blurted, blinking. What was a nice smooth path slowly turned bumpy. He did not like where this conversation was going.

"No more mind reading." Hermione told him firmly. " Wouldn't you like someone to invade your privacy, do you? I get you're concerned about me but that doesn't justify what you've done, Tom."

He nodded numbly, biting his tongue.

"Promise me, Tom. That you'll never use legilimency on me again." Her wide brown eyes tilted to meet his. " Alright?"

"I-I..." This would make knowing her even harder, the men she associated with when he was away for work-- Tom had to compromise, in the future- she would not be denying Tom what was his. Her body, mind, soul. She would tell him every single bit. He could just imagine him coming back home from a meeting with foreign ministers, his brunette would be jumping immediately into his arms, kissing, whispering all of her sweet actions and words. This was a first step to gaining trust from her, he needed it. 

An expecting look came from her as she stared at him silently. 

"I promise." He forced out, baring his teeth. She was his and if she did not know that yet, she would soon know. 

"Thank you." A small smile appeared on her face. " Trust, we can have that between us."

" Anyway, I would like to thank you again.” She said, her face red as the glass of wine in her hand. “For Warrington. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Tom replied.” It was the least I could do, after all of the misery I have afflicted on you two nights ago.”

Warrington was an issue. A stay at the cabin sounded delightful for that waste of scum.

Hermione smile broke him from his thoughts. “ Thank you.”

The heavy storm was over, Tom could see bare glimpses of light through the parting clouds. They were almost there. Give him a few more weeks and she would be wrapped around his finger. It would then be all worth the hard work he put himself through..

She lets out a sigh, taking another sip of her wine. “ Anywho, why don’t I talk about my job? I don’t think I have told you about it before, Tom. I assure you being a runes translator is not mundane!”

Tom chuckled, “ My attention is all yours.” 

While he listened, he knew that there was a bulging question mark that begged him. 

_Now that I am in your life and you are telling me about yourself. The question is flipped onto me: should I let you in, Hermione?_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well I couldn't control myself before December so I guess we're back onto a biweekly update schedule again. Maintenance will be down after all 22 chapters are published :/ A big thanks to the_chronic_procastinator for adding this story to her collection!
> 
> If you wondering why the hell is Tom so 'vanilla' in this fic, I have to say he's not lmao- in fact slowly as we approach part 2 and part 2 itself, this fic is going towards a dark direction. 
> 
> Anywho reviews, thoughts?
> 
> Love,  
> liz


	9. Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well it gets heated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut alert, BETAED by 19lams5

Sliding across his right and left limbs across the room, he spun around, arms entranced in the air. Fresh out of the shower, he felt as if every painful memory had slipped from his fingertips. 

He hummed a soft tune that had been playing on repeat on the wizarding wireless, arms flailing like a carefree wizard he was. Beaming as he slowed down his energetic movements, his eyes fell onto the brunette who was dozing off soundly. 

After slipping on some clothes, Tom waltzed over to the bed and watched her. He had every speck of freckle under her eyes memorised, the two tiny moles on her chin and the few beauty spots on her neck that he so wished to suckle on. It was a morning routine Tom had found himself accustomed to: watching his witch. Just as he was about to kiss her cheek as she slept, a soft moaning sound alerted him to her awakening. 

“Hi.” Her eyes blinked furiously, she groggily greeted him, yawning. Her voice is gruff yet soothing. ” What time is it, Tom?”

“Morning, Hermione.” He whispered to her.” It’s eight o clock right now.”

She nodded faintly and stretched out her arms above her head to let out another sleep bellow. “ “Since it is early, Tom- do you want to make some pancakes together? I’m feeling ravenous now.”

Tom nodded, smiling.” Sure I love pancakes, do you want to help out with the fruit cutting?”

Being out of the orphanage, Tom was glad to escape the horrendous gruel that was served daily. Living on his own had taught him many culinary skills, including a cure for gruel: sweet breakfast treats and of course, milk chocolate.

With their morning plan set, both of them got out of bed while laughing merrily about their day ahead. Tom loved this, the warmness he felt when he was around her. He just wanted to hold her there in the bed and never let her go. Their plans were also packed: Hermione intended to do some work while Tom intended to further his research on the runic scriptures in the Ancient Americas. Could life get any better, just him and his witch alone?

“Have you heard about the Mayan Pyramids?” He enquired, while the batter sizzled crazily on the pan. A small test for her, she would have heard about them before. 

“Definitely,” Hermione hummed while the sound of a knife on wood echoed throughout the tiny flat. “ What’s with the question anyway? Are you going to ask me if I think extraterrestrials helped to build it, Tom?”

He chuckled, his witch certainly had a quirky sense of humour. “ No, I just stumbled upon a book where it mentioned there were ancient Mayan runes that were undecipherable even with modern knowledge. ‘ WIZARDING MYSTERIES THAT BOGGLE US TO TODAY’, have you ever read that book before Hermione? “

“Yes, I have at Bott’s.” She grinned and said in a bossy tone.“ Isn’t that book a bunch of made-up rubbish for kids, though? I’m sure there’s no runic scripture I myself can’t translate. Give me the book, half an hour and we can see about ‘undecipherable, Tom.”

  
  


He loved her determination. Flipping the fluffy desserts onto two plates, Tom chuckles as he approaches her, ruffling her cognac curls. Hermione giggled at that. “Will do, Hermione. I’ll pass you the book later. But for now, let’s get to breakfast. One can’t study on an empty stomach, I can assure you that!”

Tom was counting the hours down to 10 at twilight. Hermione had agreed on the night earlier that they would attend the lavish event. That night’s party would be their first appearance in public as an unofficial couple. On the other day, Lucretia’s snowy owl dropped off their invitations and a portkey. Just as she had told them, Ignatius Prewett’s 25th birthday party was happening at a Black villa situated in Manchester. It appeared Hermione’s inner circle was starting to see him as Hermione’s partner, that was a good sign for Tom. Life now just felt so right with Hermione, it was perfectly balanced as all things should be.

Things were certainly looking up for Tom, post- mindreading, the Scamander tragedy. He would finally be that man, the one who is by her side and protecting her. Hermione was finally moving on from Scamander, he was sure. Two days was enough to show that he was the glue to her broken life- he spent hours cooking, talking and simply knowing her as a person. Some may say that relationships take time to nurture and grow but for their relationship, it was a completely different story. They were always meant for each other. Hermione and him. At the end of the road, they will find themselves side by side. Time had no impact on it.

He knew somewhat that Hermione sensed that too. Her genuine smiles, her intimate talks with him. She trusted him, in a way. Slowly but surely, she would divulge her real background to him. Was she truly a homeschooled muggle-born prodigy from the Big Apple? Was she even the Hermione Granger he knew of?

Tiny moments like these happened often.

Magicking a jar of chocolate chips into his hand, Hermione smiled.” Is that Honeydukes milk chocolate chips? Ohhh I love it.”

Tom chuckled, thrusting the jar to her.” Have some.”

She sighed.” No, it’s bad for your teeth. I think I’ll stick to berries and cream.”

“Oh come on, Hermione.” He smiled.” Live a little!”

He poured the jar onto her plate and said firmly.” I know you love it. One chocolate meal won’t kill you, Hermione.”

Breakfast had been a slow occasion. He spent every second of it remembering the curve of her smile, how her usually fair cheeks would turn a rosy hue when he laid his eyes on hers, how her eyes would have that triumphant glint in them as they talked about their interests. Soft dessert passing through her pink likeness. Tom had that one person who could understand him and that person was Hermione. The chocolate never tasted so sweet. 

A spot of the milky darkness was stained on his lip as he took another chew out of the desert. Their eyes stayed fixated on each other as her hand gently blotted the napkin across it. When he held onto her wrist and smiled.” I’m really glad that we met, Hermione.” She returned a shy smile, her whiskey eyes drooping with a hushed.” Likewise.”

_You see, Hermione. This is what I like about us._ They were in a reciprocal relationship. He cared for her and so slowly was she. She was meant for him. He would never let her go from him. She was his. 

Listening to her words, a smile braced his lips. _Mine._

After their lengthy breakfast, Tom and Hermione got straight to work. He found himself slouching on the couch, the aforementioned book in his left while he squinted at the messy runes printed on the yellowed parchment that had boggled his mind for a while, while Hermione huddled at the desk by the window.

He had been able to translate a quarter of the ancient text but it seemed weeks of the remaining parts were long spent, the Mayan runes had a special twist to it that differed from the runes used in Western Europe. The book had stated that the Mayan runes were a forgotten language of the Ancient Americas and not even modern natives could read a single word of it. However, Tom was sure within a few hard hours and perhaps a little help from his favourite witch could solve this so-called ‘mystery’ that baffled magical archaeologists for centuries. 

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Tom?” The brunette’s nest of curls poked up from her gigantic stack of scribbles. Her eyes fell onto the book he was reading. “ Was that the book you mentioned? Do you need some help with that?”

To be honest, Tom was feeling reluctant about having to ask her for an assistant. Was he not the most intelligent wizard over this century? Having to resort to asking a mudbloo-- Tom shook off that thought and bared a sheepish smile. “ Indeed.” 

However, it could be possible Hermione held a few hints about the text in his hand. She was such a mystery, after all. 

“Accio Tom’s book.” The book flew from his hands and landed safely in her hands in a heap. Of course, his witch would be able to do wandless magic. Hermione was simply divine. 

He watched as the brunette buried herself into the heavy parchment and narrowed her eyes at the complicated writings. While she read and moaned at the complexity of the topic, his eyes were on how that burgundy sweater of hers rubbed against her skin, the untainted cresses of her soft lips and how she bit on that wooden pencil between her lips, how tiny she was as compared to the tattered leather chair she was crouched on. 

“Tom?” 

“Yes?” He said, meeting her eyes once more when he was bolted from his deep thoughts about the brunette. 

“ I think I may have a clue or two regarding what these writings are saying. By the way, could I have some of your notes? “ She stated, her hand reaching out.

Tom nodded and sent the wrinkled pile of parchment flying onto her table. 

* * *

Hours passed, it turned out they spent more time on Tom’s little research assignment than their own individual tasks. Hermione had only been able to continue the next few lines after his translation and she told him that she might know someone who had secondary texts to supplement translation. However that meant weeks of waiting, Tom was eager to find out what was the meaning behind those tainted red marks across the temple walls in the treacherous jungle.

She said frustratedly, wincing at Tom. “ Besides, we don’t want to mess it up, Tom. Honestly, we have to be patient, Benny is a talent- I am sure by January we will have answers. “

Benny. A simple name that held no ring to it. He wanted to know who he was. How he was related to his witch. It better not be one of those nasty lechers after her, or else Tom might have a couple of fewer hours that week. 

Tom laid on the couch, the open book resting on his forehead. 

Hermione sighed as she grabbed the book. Swatting his shoulder lightly with the book, she said exasperatedly. “ Why did they have to be so secretive about everything? I simply don’t get it. Now this little puzzle will be droning my mind, so kudos to you Tom for my upcoming bid of insomnia!”

He moaned an ‘ouch’ which earned him another hit from her. Ah, his feisty little Hermione. 

“Let’s get to work before dinner and get dressed ” She said firmly.” At least, we’ll be able to get some progress in.” 

Dinner was an awkward occasion, Tom constructed a quick meal of spaghetti bolognaise. The flat was filled with the fragrant smell of basil and meaty sauce. 

His brunette waltzed in from the living room, the book in her hands. He turned to her as she gasped.” No, you did not, Tom. I can’t believe--”

“Happy early christmas?” He joked. It was her favourite meal, the first personal fact he knew about her. It had to be perfect. When he had delved into Hermione’s life and visited her flat, he noticed there were many red stained takeouts boxes on the counter. He wanted to vanish her work frustration with the plate of pasta and so it did. Multiple consultations with various recipe books had perfected his recipe- well mostly, it was him ‘asking’ the chef of the italian restaurant Hermione frequently patronised. By that he meant using one of his favourite spells on the reluctant man. 

A bright smile appeared on her face, “ I can’t wait for us to have dinner together again.” 

Tip one of making Hermione happy again, he was very grateful for that short moment of comfort between the two of them because little did he know, the question was bugging him again. _Are you going to cave into the little words she is going to throw at you, Tom?_

At that moment on his shoulders stool two figures, angelic white and metallic red, the angel and the devil. The angel lifted his feathery wings, whispering into his ear. “ Tell her, Tom. Tell her everything.”

On the other hand, a red caricature of him with horns settled between his dark curls, flew swiftly around him. Tom’s eyes followed the sneering creature. “ That mudblood doesn’t need to know anything. Lord Voldemort, you are much more capable of settling down with a tainted filthy being like her. She has no consent. She belongs to you. Take it, take everything from her.”

With that, black and white crashed into each other. 

His witch was indeed a curious little one.

“What’s that ring on your finger, Tom?” Hermione curled an eyebrow, talking in between bites of the noodles. “Merlin, this is so delicious-- anyway, I didn’t think you were one for flamboyant!”

Tom choked on the food, a few squeaks came from him as he tried to settle himself down. He was certainly not--! Did Hermione really see him as that? He had to rectify this issue before it manifested into something worse. 

“Are you alright, Tom? “ She said worriedly, her hand reaching out to his. He immediately shook her dainty softness off his skin, hissing internally at the loss of her. 

“Yes, I am-- _ahem,_ fine. _Ahem!”_ He coughed countlessly before his breathing settled to normal, whispering.” I’m alright.”

His witch turned a shade of pink. “ If you’re not comfortable--”

“I can assure you, Hermione.” Tom said stiffly. “ I am far from being a poofter.”

A soft laughter burst out across the table, Hermione laughed. “ S-sorry, Tom, seriously you are on point with the jokes today!”

While she laughed, his mind was racing. What would he say about its true properties? A lie would be easy though, wizards often wore jewellery as opposed to the backward muggle men. Perhaps her muggleborn heritage had muddled her consensus on his ring. 

The summer of Warren’s death, he had visited his father and his pathetic family living in the quiet village of Little Hangleton. The shrill screams coming from the elderly Riddle father and son did sound terribly delightful, now he was thinking about it. When the green light greeted the family of three, Tom had remembered smiling while watching the lifeless faces. Morfin’s ring was the only treasure the man held, Tom was glad to help out his uncle by using it for a true cause. If anyone asked him what he truly wanted in the whole world, he would answer 

  
  


He had thought about this over the course of the two days and after much contemplation, he reached one conclusion- she was not ready to know. What would she say? Say about his past? How miserable and pathetic his sallow self was? He needed time. 

  
  


“Haha,” He forced out before baring his teeth.” So Hermione, what is your favourite book title?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Soon time came for them, Tom got himself dressed in the living room while Hermione pottered behind the makeshift curtain surrounding the bed area. The wizarding wireless played as Tom sunk deeply into his thoughts once more. He was curious to see how his witch would dress herself- being with him meant future dinner invitations with his followers. He was not a person who cared much about his appearance, but being an aspiring dark lord required a lot of dressing up to do. His dark robes usually did the trick. Perhaps Hermione would wear a pretty black dress with him in the future, he mused. 

It was just then the wizarding wireless had stopped due to intermission, leaving a grey silence lingering around the room. The curtain dropped and so did his jaw. There she was, in a light silver robes that tugged tightly to her body, accentuating her soft curves. The usually wild hair of hers was now tamed into sleek curls that cascaded down her back. His Adam's apple bobbled as she approached him slowly, a seductive dance through her innocent walk. Hermione tilted her head to meet his eyes as her fingers grasped against her red tie, she whispered slowly.” What do you think, Tom?”

He let out a guttural groan as his eyes looked down on the low cut of her dress revealing ample cleavage of her firm breasts. Fuck Tom, control yourself. Oh how much he wanted to tell her that all he wanted was to tear off that dress of hers and fuck her mercilessly. 

“Hermione, you look… beautiful.” In his mind were much more crude words that were begging to be blurted out. Ravishing, nymp--

She bit her lip. “ Thank you, Tom.”

Her eyes looked at him up and down, grinning.” I think I would have to protect you from the ladies that are going to pounce on you there. Do you mind?”

He chuckled lowly. “ No, I don’t. Well then, we should both protect each other. Can’t imagine having a sleazy man laying a single finger on you, do you know what I would do to him?” She could because his hands had already been stained by foreign blood. What would she say if she truly knew?

Giggling, she swatted against his chest lightly. “ Well, having said that I think I would need to refine my claws then. These ladies stand no chance against me.”

Tom’s bright smile remained as he mused to himself, it seemed as though they had found a common ground. Ah, his brilliant little mudblood witch and her fiery spirit.

“Alright, it’s getting around ten. Hopefully, Lucretia didn’t send us the wrong portkey.” She said, moving away from Tom. He did not know what she was referring to and he did not want to. 

Leering as she bent down to pick a glass object up from the table, her short dress pulled up to reveal slightly of a white lace knicker. He placed a blank expression on when she turned back around. She said excitedly. ” Ah, fingers crossed!”

As his fingertips grazed across the surface of the glistening cube, the brunette laced her fingers through his. They felt slightly icy as compared to his but he was definitely sure he could warm her up some way. She gave him a comforting smile as the grandfather clock struck ten and he found himself torn from the confinement of the beige room and into a whirlwind of grey. 

  
  
  
  


__________

  
  


He opened his eyes, he found her still grinning and holding ever so tightly onto his hand. They were both kilometres high above the ground, their prim robes fluttering in the air. She mouthed, “ This is amazing, isn’t it?” When he was about to open his mouth to say yes -the edge of his vision flashed with colours of a monochrome palette scheme, swallowing them both into the never-ending pit hole.

Their feet landed on the ground with a soft thud, in front of them stood a grand manor which was a colossal affair of any he had seen from his visits to his various followers. His lips parted as Hermione smoothed out her robes, smirking at him.” I wish I could have taken a snapshot of your reaction. You look like you have bitten a snake yourself!”

“Cheeky little witch.” Tom chuckled before retorting, vanishing the cube.” So are we going to go in or not?”

His brunette chortled loudly. Suddenly when he took his hand in hers, Hermione immediately stiffened, making him raise an eyebrow. As they both trapezed through the growing swarms of the wizarding elite that were dressed in fine furs and jewels that went like moths to the glowing yellow from the innards of the spanking marbled building. Tom snorted to himself. Was he going into a circus or was he the circus itself for allowing Hermione and him to attend such a party? The two of them had better things to do than sentimental birthdays and sickening party leisure. 

The sweetness of fresh citruses overwhelmed his olfactory senses, Tom immediately gagged at the tacky aromatic surrounding the mausoleum as he fought the urge to dash out of it. But he needed to be here, he needed to show his witch that he was going to be there for her no matter what. This was a necessary sacrifice and Tom would do it over and over again if it meant it made Hermione happy. Besides, who knows? Maybe he could find a competent follower or two amongst these brainless fools.

_One look and I can tell you, not my crowd._ Tom shivered to himself as he watched the leather heels click against the cold stone. The scaled creature had to be skinned to be put on such monstrosity. His natural friend was now being squished between the floor and being worn by a pompous woman who was preaching praises to his infamous buddy, Joseph Prewett.

The woman enthused to the man with a thin moustache above his lips. “ We are all so lucky to have the Ministry Of Magic! Darling Carraway, oh remember Joey? He was that magical polo friend of yours, right? The man who solved the Greens and Longbottom cases, right? What a brave man, finding and arresting those nasty nasty depravity they call men!”

If only she had seen the photos Tom had in possession, she would have fallen off her bulbous feet. 

The man’s moustache twitched, he slung his arm around her shoulder. “Indeed, we are lucky.”

Tom could see his face fighting to keep the smile on. Obviously, it seemed that he was not the only one who knew of Prewett's antics. 

Shaking his head, his eyes fell on the intricate carvings of marble lining up the hallways that were lit up by fluttering candles held up on pristine candelabras. A sculpted couple of a towering man and woman stood the most attention in the middle of the waiting hall, Greek Hades and Persephone. It seemed as if he and Hermione were the only ones intrigued by the sculpture, out of the many who passed the sculpture. she let out a soft whisper. “That’s beautiful.”  
  


Tom let a smile replace the blank expression on his face and said. “ I agree.”

He could have seen himself and Hermione into the two static figures- the crowned man with a wispy beard, the firm arm muscles lifting the woman up who had her hands pushing him away. Two people meant to be together. A couple made in the wizarding world of hell. Him the ruler. Her, his faithful queen. And if she tried to push him away, Tom was sure he could find himself a packet of pomegranate seeds.

A soft voice awoke him from his vivid thoughts. 

“Come,” She told him.” Lucretia’s waiting for us at the East Wing, it’s not going to be as wild as it is out here.” 

He was glad to be out of that freak show happening out in the drunkard parlour. 

Tom followed her, strolling through the lavish hallways of white, a flight of domineering stairs, into a series of empty roads in emerald green. He watched, amazed by the architecture of the house. Every single part of it was perfect, not one vase left on the wrong stand. His smile diminished as hollowness overwhelmed him from the museum-like interior. 

A loud female echo caught his attention. 

“Hermione!” A figure in a peach coloured robe with glittery rhinestones sewed on that rivalled Walburga’s finest gem from the summer of 7th year, approached them. In her hand held a clear drink and the other, a smoking fag. The brunette quickly let go of his hand like he was some kind of disease which made him avert his gaze onto her and furrow his eyebrows. Was she embarrassed?

Lucretia hugged Hermione tightly which squeezed a soft squeak from her, she said excitedly.” Both of you actually came for once!”

“Privileged to be at this wonderful party of yours, Miss Black,” Tom said, putting on his usual handsome grin. “I have to say you have outdone yourself. This place looks absolutely stunning like you.”

Tom always had a fixed talking approach to people. It was one, smile, two, be yourself and three, compliment them. Most people liked being complimented and having their egos stroked, it usually made them compliant to his ideas. And so it did for Lucretia. 

“ Aw.” The colour on Lucretia’s cheeks matched her robes, she winked at Hermione who was still wearing a small smile on her face. “ See told you, Hermione. Tom is a gentleman. Treasure him for me, will you? And Tom, it’s Lucretia. After all, we have known each other for some time already.”

Tom nodded. One point for him. As he expected, even her friends were starting to accept him as a common figure in Hermione’s life.

Shoving the cigarette into her mouth, Lucretia said muffledly. “ That’s a pretty dress you have got there, Hermione. I’m guessing it’s from Sherry’s s?”

The brunette smiled.” No actually, I transfigured it myself, Lucretia.”

His mouth parted. Over the years, Tom met many witches from the higher class who were covered in designer robes- of course, his witch would be able to make anything, even a cloth rag look stunning. However, he would have preferred her to have nothing on. 

She blew the grey smoke into the air which made Hermione immediately choke. 

While wearing that sickly bright smile of hers, she looked Hermione up and down. Suddenly her thin fingers pinched the brunette’s arm. “ Have you not been listening to my advice, Mione?”

“What advice?” She questioned while averting her gaze slightly back to Tom.

“ Don’t take me as rude but I think Hermione, you should honestly start laying off all of the chocolate treats you’ve been consuming! I’m sure Tom here doesn’t have a preference for bigger women, do you? Trust me, Hermione- let’s start with a couple of Waldorf salads three meals a day for a few weeks and you’ll be back into shape in no time.”

Hermione watched her friend impassively as Tom struggled to keep his smile on his face. He for one liked Hermione whole and true. In fact, he loved her curves, it made her seem more real and raw to him, rather than the artificial bodies that were as thin as a praying mantis which prowled after him. 

“Tom, tell her.” Lucretia motioned to his witch before taking a sip from her cocktail, the wide smile remained on her dazed face. 

om gritted his teeth, baring his best fake smile.” Lucretia, I think Hermione and I would like to get some fresh air. We’ll get going now.”

Lucretia nodded, glancing at Hermione.” Well, be back soon in ten because I’ll need my best friend for a longer chat.”

She faced Tom, beaming.” Tom, if you don’t mind?”

“Not a problem.” He answered, smiling fakely, his cheeks felt they were going to fall off from the incessant smiles he had given her and this had only been the start of this freak show.

As Hermione and him hastily walked towards the main hall where the loud sound of trumpets and drums could be heard, Hermione murmured to him.” Thanks for saving me from that, Tom.”

“It’s nothing.” He replied, pulling her to the corner of the hallway .” Does she always discuss about your body openly in front of--”

He already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it personally from her own mouth. Was her life truly a travesty from what he was seeing, or was he delusional about how her friends treated her?

“ Yes.” She glanced down, not facing his eyes.” But I don’t blame Lucretia. She’s just trying to help. I mean take a look at the witches here, Tom and well look at me, what am I? Look at me, I’m ugly--”

“Hermione, you’re not.” Tom replied hastily, he placed his hands onto her shoulders. He gazes deep into her whiskey eyes.” Ugly is not what you are. Lucretia is wrong about you, Hermione. I think you’re the most beautiful witch I have laid my eyes on. Don’t listen to her. “

“Oh Tom, please don’t lie to me because you feel pity for me.” She answered, sighing. “ I know I am not—”

“I’m serious.” Tom said, his hand stroked against her chin, lifting it.” Hermione, you’re a walking goddess. Your friend here is just trying to intimidate you because your beauty overthrows the host of the party.”

“Believe me, Hermione.” He told her. “You are beautiful. I don’t care what you tell yourself but I’m telling you honestly from the bottom of my heart.”

He watched her reaction. The brunette seemed to brighten up after his compliment but still wore some doubts about her appearance. Sighing internally, it seems her self-confidence needed some fixing by him too.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” She whispered.”Thank you, Tom.”

Instead of replying, he brings his arms around her petite form and holds her. Breathing in the faint scene of the familiar jasmine oil, he held her there for as long as he wanted in the corner of the party. Hermione, oh he loved the sound of the four syllable word rolling in the chambers of his mind. Every part of her was perfect, nothing was to change. Many so-called female figures had crawled their bony bodies after him, rare high cheekbones and matched lips had found their place in his bed, but they lacked substance. Her very imperfection. She was special, a gem to keep. That was the difference between Hermione and the numerous admirers and the reason why these pathetic feminine attribute prowlers found themselves ignored or simply told to never see him again. From the sea of witches, Hermione stood out. Oh he loved her everything. 

“Hermione!” Suddenly, just as he was to admit all of those thoughts running in his head, a rarity coming from him, a blonde witch approaches the embracing couple. She sniffed. “ Wow, I see uh… Thomas and you are quite busy.”

The Kowalski girl just had to come in between him and his witch during an intimate moment. Surely it was not a coincidence? Tom gritted his teeth, one day the blondie would be gone and he would make that into reality. It seemed among the three of her friends, Kolwaski was the most unreceptive towards him. Was it paranoia? Was she simply wanting Hermione all to herself, no judgement but-- Was she just playing this game to test his limits? The war between her and Tom had started not a few months ago in the cafe and it would end that night, he swore.

“Hi Liza.” Hermione pulled away from Tom to give Kowalski a short hug. He immediately curled his fist, gritting his teeth. 

“What a stunner you are.” The blonde grinned, passing Hermione a glassful of clear liquid. “ What are you two doing around here not joining in on the fun? Anyway here Hermione, Lucretia had specially imported some hard liquor from Russia. Think it was called Vodka or something like that. I have tasted it myself, trust me you’ll love it.” 

She glanced at Tom.” Sorry Thomas, I only had one glass for Hermione. There’s plenty of this Vodka laying around, I’m sure you can get yourself replenished.”

He narrowed his eyes at her before managing a smile. “I’ll do that.”

The last time someone had called him Thomas, they found themselves a place in the muggle insane asylum. Temptation was reigning him closer to his decision.

“In the meanwhile, Thomas- Hermione, Lucretia and I need to have some lady time to ourselves. Make yourself at home. Everyone is nice here, why don’t you find someone else to talk to?” Kowalski grinned at him. “This will take some time anyway. Get yourself busy then.”

Tom spluttered, fighting the urge to hex the infuriating blonde in the face. Hermione simply smiled at him and mouthed silently.” Don’t worry, I’ll find you.”

That was certainly comforting to know for Tom, however there was an unfamiliar feeling of dread that was lingering around him. He remained rooted to the ground, staring at the blonde witch emotionlessly.

“Ta ta, Thomas.” Kowalski waved at him.” Off you go.”

“But--” He tried to argue.

“GO.” Her hands shoved him away, causing Tom to enter the busy hall with a swagger and fall slightly onto a scraggly witch. The thin girl yelped, “ Watch it, will you? Hey-- wait are you Tom Riddle?”

His name was commonly recognised, Tom smiled smugly to himself. Soon it would not be just her and the small running witches remembering, the whole world would know him. Not Tom Riddle but his real name, Lord Voldemort. Hermione would love it.

He got onto his feet and reached out a hand for her, of which the witch beamed and grabbed. “ Yes, I’m so sorry for bumping into you. Are you alright? Any injuries or bruises forming?”

She smiled shyly.” No, I’m alright. My name is Anastasia Johnson, just call me Ana. I don’t think you remembered but I did a prefectorial round with you in fifth year. Remember big glasses, acne eh?”

Oh he did, his past memories of her swam with utmost detest. Not only she was an awful looker, she had been late an hour into the aforementioned round. He had to deal with a situation that was a gryffindor prank on slytherins, which ended up in a long student battery report he had to make for Dipplet. If she had been there, he swore he could have avoided that long night of inconvenience. Though her appearance had definitely improved and that she could be considered pretty, she was a pretentious guest of this party, another rich daddy seeker like most witches her age. Tom wanted far away from her. 

“If you don’t, it’s okay! Do you want to dance with me? I mean you were such a good dancer from what I have heard from Lily Lima--”

_Annnnd she is a stalker too._ Tom internally blanched. Could she get anymore desperate for attention? Could he just walk this off since this whole conversation started from an accident? He had to act fast, before she decided snogging him was a good way to start the night. 

“I wish I had more time to talk with you.” He said apologetically.” But Ana, I’m involved with someone.”

“I didn’t know-- I’m sorry.” She stammered.” I’ll leave now, lest your girl chases me down for stealing her wizard.”

“Thank you, Ana.” For once, he was glad his inherited genes from his filthy father was useful. 

The reddened girl brushed past him, Tom released a loud sigh of relief. His eyes glazed over the crowd of glam and narcissism, groaning when she was nowhere to be found. He sighed to himself. I _t’s going to be a long night for you and I, Hermione._

His gigantic frame brushed through the crowd with a couple of fox trox dance moves, he had also managed to find himself a glass of that strange Eastern European drink. The witches that embraced him wore wide smiles with odd coloured rouge painted across them, was he the prime attraction for the Circle Arcanus? The absubsity of this whole situation he and Hermione had landed in was abysmal. 

“Hello there.” A man with fiery red hair greeted him. Tom turned on his heel. He placed his grin back on, bright as ever. 

“ Hello, Mr Prewett.”

_So Buddy Joe was the lucky uncle of his. Well, hello how are you?_

The man lets out a chuckle. “ Call me Ignatius and you are…?”

“Tom Riddle, Ignatius.” 

He smiled.” Ah, if I’m not wrong- three years ago, you have received the school’s special services award. Was I not right?”

Tom raised an eyebrow. When pathetic Warren’s tragedy happened, Hogwarts gifted him the special services award for capturing the culprit for her death. He was not a murderer, it was an accident. He deserved it, the little trophy. But the gorilla half being and his pesky arachnid creature had to go, it was the perfect opportunity after all. 

_He felt himself falling back into time._

_The year was 1943. The chamber was open. The basilisk's eyes had met hers._

_Soft murmurs of ministry workers echoed throughout the stairwell, a tall usually jovial man stayed silent. He whispered to the aged headmaster who was standing solidly at the top of the stairwell._

_His hands behind his back, Tom watched how the man’s face would scrunch up and wrinkle and his chest heaving slowly. Dippet was fearful but glad. He turned to Tom who had been staring impassively at them. “ Come, Mr Riddle.”_

_Passing through the dimly lit up hallways, he swallowed as the images of her lifeless body invaded his mind. He shook it off, after all he had done nothing wrong. Myrtle was an accident. A good accident. At least mudbloods were good for something, he thought to himself._

_The wooden door shut with a loud slam, his body stayed firm. Breathing controlled. Poker face on. Perfect. Only two men remained in the room, him and Dippet. An easy situation that could be mediated._

_“Mr Riddle,” The man started as he paced around the aged desk. “ I have heard about your recent discovery about a student in our school. In regards to the dubious times we are facing right now, I am absolutely shocked about the recent incidents happening to the muggle borns in this school. I do hope you understand why you’re here tonight, Tom.”_

_He had to control the flinch of disgust at the mention of the name. Tom replied.” Yes, Headmaster Dippet.”_

_“Frankly, in all of my years as a headmaster, I have never came across a student so brilliant like you, Tom.” Dippet smiled at him._

_Tom swallowed, wheezing slightly from the dusty interior from the office._

_“Hogwarts is lucky to have you, Tom.” He said. “ The saviour of the muggleborns. “_

_He nearly choked on the dust that was collecting in his airway. Saviour and muggleborns did not mix._

_“Miss Warren’s death was a cruel tragedy. “ Dippet sighed, wringing his fingers. “ But we are glad that her death has put a stop to the incidents endangering our students and a name too. He has been expelled. “_

_Tom fought the smile that was threatening to creep up onto his face._

_“ But this matter has gotten way out of hand. We would like to keep Hogwarts as a safe place for children. I think Mr Riddle, you know that too. “ He continued.“The school governors and I have decided to endow the special services award to the school onto you. Doesn’t that sound delightful to you, Toml?”_

Dippet believed him naturally, he was the sweetheart of the school afterall. The trophy had been a piece of junk, putting it in the trophy room was a way of ridding it. After all, it was a reminder of how Hogwarts and the ministry had tried to be hush hush about the Warren case. Besides, he was not a superficial one for awards. It did not matter much to him anyway. But who knew someone would step into that dusty enclosure and had taken an interest in the years old award?  
  


“I heard all about you from my colleagues at the Ministry. The other day when I was at Hogwarts, I stumbled upon your award in the trophy room. ” He chuckled. “ Beg my pardon, Mr Riddle. Apparently you were quite an overachiever in school. Headboy. School award. Medal for magical merit. A handsome promising young wizard. Some say you’re smarter than the headmaster himself and you know who over in Germany. I was quite surprised to find out that you haven’t taken up the job offers sent to you, why is that the case?”

Tom smiled. Of course, he was the best. There was no dispute. ” Currently I have decided to take up a job as a shop assistant. Sounds strange to most people I tell, but to me- I find it more welcoming than being a ministry worker. Possibly in the future, I might find myself dabbling into the political waters.”

“ Well, Mr Riddle. Do know that if you’re still interested in any roles in the ministry. Owl me and I’ll get back to you. I believe that you could make great changes to things around here. The ministry is in need of talent like you, Mr Riddle to handle the mess that it is right now. “

“Thank you. “ 

“It’s no problem.” Ignatius said before questioning. “ So what brings you here Tom? Does Lucretia know you? Don’t mind me but if my fiance offends you in any kind of way, please don’t take her seriously, she isn’t exactly…well endowed in the maturity department yet.” 

Tom silently agreed with him. Lucretia’s immaturity often hurt his witch’s feelings, 

“I was invited through your fiance’s friend Hermione.” He said. “ By the way, Miss Black and you are engaged?”

“Soon to be.” The man smiled at him , patting the pocket of his robe. He whispers into Tom’s ear.” Don’t tell anyone, it’s meant to be a surprise.”

“Understood.” Tom replied, smiling.” An early congratulations to your engagement, Ignatius.” 

“Thank you, Mr Riddle.” He said. “ Just now, you’ve mentioned Hermione right? Where did you get to know her?”

“ She came in during one of my shifts and was asking me for assistance on the book she needed.” He said. 

“How romantic.” Ignatius smiled.” Lucretia and I met when I was in my 7th year. She came up to me in the library and asked me out. At first, I didn’t take her seriously. But it became clear that she was serious in her interest towards me as she didn’t stop following me around the school! I had even considered once to persuade Peeves to chase her away.”

“But eventually I said yes when she showed me she was capable of handling her studies while engaging in a relationship. Ever since we were together, we never looked back.”

  
  


“ Ignatius, don’t take this the wrong way but I’m curious,” Tom asked. “Was the age gap a barrier between the two of you, considering that you are nearly half a decade her senior. I myself wouldn’t have thought of pursuing a second-year student.”

“Oh no, no. Lucretia and I found age to be just a number. We got along just swell and now look at how far we’ve come. “ The man beamed, his head tilted to the side. Ignatius winked at him,whistling. ” Is that your witch? My my, you’re lucky.”

Hermione was approaching them in her pretty red dress, her face wore a ditzy look. She greeted the men with a curved smile. Tom immediately gulped. ” Hey fellas, does either of you happen to know where the pantheon is? I’m here to pick up a Greek God.”

Ignatius chuckled, “She’s adorable, isn’t she?” Tom nodded. Wearing that amiable facade had certainly been exhausting for him all night but it was worth it just for his stunning witch. 

“Sorry Ignatius, if you excuse me, I have a drunk witch I have to take care of.” Placing his arm behind her back, he guided her as she walked slightly gingerly with him towards the secluded balcony at the back. Her face nuzzled into his chest, she moans. “Mhm, you smell so nice, like the rain.”

Tom chuckled, wrapping an arm around her before ruffling her mass of brown curls once more. The tresses felt soft between his fingers. “I could say the same about you.”

However, drunk Hermione meant trouble and so he let his magic run over her, hoping she would sober up and ask them to leave together. Hermione’s widened irises returned to their normal size.” W-where am i?...”

“Lucretia. Party. Me.” Tom replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Sick.”

“As expected, how did your lady chat go with them?”

“Truthfully,” Hermione sighed, gazing down. “It was quite boring. How I got sucked into aristocrats and the elite, I have no clue. They were all yammering about Ignatius would love this and that, talk about themselves.”

“I just wish they had just left me out of their conversations.” She said. “ Besides, I thought I would have fun here coming to a party. I guess I’ve always thought I’ll get used to Lucretia’s parties but somehow I never do.”

He cleared his throat, asking firmly. “Hermione, why did you bring me here?”

She yawns, looking up at him. “I don’t know.”

“Your friends don’t seem to like me.”

“But I like you, Tom. Their opinions are useless.” She groaned. “Bugger this.”

“I just wanted to show my friends that we are…”

“We are?” Tom pressed.” What are we, Hermione? Because for the first time, I seem not to know something.” She giggled drunkenly, before sobering at his piercing gaze. 

“Honestly,” Hermione said, her whiskey eyes blinking furiously. She stammered, “ Look Tom...just g-give some time please to think this through, will you?”

“Of course,” he replied amicably. Inwardly though, he curbed the boiling rage that threatened to consume him. Enveloping her soft body onto his, he whiffed the addictive scent of his witch, falling further into this dark abyss. 

This was it, his last chance for second thoughts before he could never climb out of the hole that was swallowing him whole. Pulling slightly apart from her, he lifted her chin. Leaning in, he could feel the prickle of her lips against his. Her body suddenly budges away, and she tilts her head to meet his eyes. Her cheeks a familiar rosy red. “Thank you… thanks for the sobering charm, I will get going then… Lucretia is probably currently hunting me down in this villa.”

She manages a smile,” I guess I will see you at the cake cutting?”

His head moves mechanically and murmurs a soft “yes.”

“Great, see you then.” Her dainty hands waved. They were usually covered in smudges of parchment ink were now cleared of its stain, they were of a soft tan. Perfection wrapped in ten digits, begging to be taken between his lips, tongued and feasted on of their foreign sweetness. 

Tom watches her figure recede into the blinking yellow lights of the extravagant house. Though no matter how beautiful its architecture was, he remembered the people that were inside it. 

Damn it, fuck it, did she not want him? An almost touch of her lips, he had savoured it days ago and he would again no matter what. It was an addiction, how her sweet lips that tasted of intoxicating alcohol that drowned him in all of it. 

A well-articulated voice broke his attention. “Hermione? Where were you? I need you now. Salazar, there is a reason why I don’t talk to the elves!”

The brunette’s tone failed to contain hidden frustration at the whims of Elf Slavery. “Alright Lucretia, I'm here.” 

A hand is placed on the witch’s shoulder. “Now where are they?” The friend passes her another bottle of alcohol, serenading her away to the artificial problems of the wizarding elite. Tom sighed, flicking out a packet of fags.

Hands of the clock ticked seemed to mock him with their slowness. Tom strolled into the packed dance halls, busying himself with the newly-raved alcohol of the party. The clear liquid rolled onto his tongue, a rougher burn than his usual whiskey. It lacked the variety of the texture his neat drink offered him, it was a simple bitter which bored him to tears. The alcohol reminded him of the bodies around him. Bodies that they were not there for a birthday celebration. Bodies that were in that cold building, four marbled walls enclosing themselves between. Bodies that wished they could be at the top and so this place was an invitation to the wish fulfilments of make believe connections and wealth. Tom was one of these bodies. But unlike them, he would be the one dominating them and not being one of the sheep. 

His sweet talk and charms had cultivated ten names that night. Three promises. They told him the usual, the “Gee this is a potential I need to cultivate. Talented, smart, handsome. If someone doesn’t snatch him up, I would!” Followed after was “Funding your little group then? Oh sorry, I’m the subordinate?” Tom felt tempted by the need to ‘explain’ his position in his circle of followers to these fools. Simpletons they were, believing their wealth could buy their way into the position of the Minister for magic and Tom himself. While he mingled with them and conversed deeply into topics like politics and philosophy, in his mind were not intellectual facts- rather the vivid image of his witch, Hermione. If only she were beside him, it would have made this whole situation more tolerable. 

  
  
  


As the music in the gigantic dance hall slowed and paced into silence, people were busing through the tight enclosure of the room, the herd pack moving towards the main hall. Tom stood at an empty corner, casting a tempus. 0250. He supposed the cake cutting had arrived, considering the witching hour was approaching. Following after the tail of the crowd, he groaned to himself. Where was that bushy head of hers? 

“One minute to go!” He found himself standing at the front of the crowd circle after much shoving and grunts. Laughter and excitement buzzed in the air, for the main intention of the inky night was to be fulfilled. It was another of those halls, drums beat harder than ever, babel tower high feathers from over the top hair pieces swatted his cheeks. Tom tried to fit in by dancing a little, but to no avail, his feet were rooted to the ground. His body stayed stoic as he was shoved from side to side, with occasional leers from the surrounding caked faces.

The song came and went, gone were the flames on the melting wax. Tom stiffened as he took a huge gulp of vodka, an artificial bravado drink for the party goers. All he wanted was out with his witch. He would find her after.

“Make a wish!” The polished voice called out shrilly. It was then Tom realised she was standing in front of him the entire time! His witch had a small smile on her face as she stood beside the thinning woman beside her, as she fumbled with her fingers. He mouthed, “ Hermione.” She did not notice. All Tom wanted to do was to reach over, shake her and give her a good snog to remind her of his presence. 

That was when Ignatiius fell on his knee, his fingers shuffling into the pocket as the raven haired witch’s mouth gaped, a domino of gasps through the cold hall. 

“My sweet ambrosia,the first day of sixth year I didn’t expect to be wooed. In fact, I think some of you might remember my difficulties regarding magical care of creatures. Aren’t I right, Elliot?” 

“Aye aye captain!” The man called out. The audience laughed, except for Tom. Ignatius’s jokes were unfunny and the only funny joke here was that he was going to marry Lucretia Black. He hoped the loud laughs from the people around him was to that.

“The least I expected... was for this pretty annoying girl to step beside my desk and pester me!” 

Hermione let out a soft giggle as her foot movements stumbled. Tom frowned, only he should make her laugh!

“I told her to go away and leave me alone. As you all know by now, Lucretia is persistent. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, even in gryffindor tower- she was always there, trying to get me to talk. My breaking point was finding out she had topped her year. Lucretia isn’t just a pretty gem, she’s deep in intelligence and a real life sweetheart. I decided to follow her directions and that’s how it all started. Now here we are. I love you Lucretia. You make me happy, and to have you by my side would make me the happiest wizard alive. So Lucretia Katherine Black, will you marry me and make this silly wizard yours?” Truthfully to say, Tom blanked out most of the process in between these short snippets of the proposal. He was bored out of his mind. This was not excitement, this was torture. The coos from those around threatened to make him pop a vein. Indeed, he realised the hiss he heard was not in his mind, but Hermoine’s, trying to shake aside his grip on her. 

“Yes, yes!” The girl jumped up and down. Tom snorted, wondering where the pureblood etiquette they espoused were. So uncivilised, so unlike him. “I will marry you!”

“I guess that’s the ending for tonight’s show, folks.” The man gestured to the crowd before turning on his heel. When the couple embraced the crowd, on her finger was a glinting blue diamond. The girl jumped on him, pushing a kiss onto his lips. Tom watched his witch who wore the same smile, clapping her hands lightly to the newly engaged couple. He decided that he would never bring himself to humiliate himself like that. Unless she wanted it, of course.

Hordes of tacky silken robes brushed roughly against his shoulder, the beads and feathers hitting his cheeks once more. Tom grunted, he had lost his witch after the crowd had dispersed. It was a stampede, 

“Hermione--where are you?” In the sea of bodies, he felt alone. Where was his little witch? He moved towards the side hall, perhaps his witch could be there. Long and behold, he was correct. “Granger?” The brunette’s body was swaying, side to side like a pendulum. Her movements were swift and languid, entrancing his very being. A seductive dance, one may add. On the table was his witch dancing to the encouragement of the wizards and witches around her that did not mean well, her curls perked up when he called her out. She shook her arse at him, giving him an eye.” Hi, T-tommy…” A collection of soft chortles came from her as he attempted to grab her off that table right that instant. 

“You’re drunk.” He said simply, just as she fell onto his chest, he gasped which released a giggle from her. “Again.”

“Oh Tommy,” His eyes darkened as Hermione placed a single finger on his chest, letting the lip slide slowly down the shirt as he stiffened under her intimate touch. “I just love it when you go all dominant on me.” He never liked nicknames, but this would pass - she was Hermione. If it was anyone else, he would gouge their tongue out personally. He swore she could try and feed him poison and it would taste like sweet nectar.

“Hermione, we need to get you home.” He shook his head. “You are simply not in the right state of mind.” 

She hums.” No, _we_ need to stay here and party!”

This happens when Hermione did not have Tom. This is one of the reasons why she needed him, his protection and care.

“Hermione,” he bit out, it came out sounding more like a whine than a command. Salazar, where was his charm when he needed it? He sighed loudly. “We are going.”

She stuck out her tongue, sighing, “Tommy, you’re no fun.” 

No fun? Oh he would show her fun if she was not half pissed and shoving her tits in front of those disgusting leering fools. He grabbed her wrist, the booming drums and brass instruments were penetrating painfully into his eardrums. Her legs rocked back and off, a spineless movement beside him. The golden arches of the doorway were metres away. However just as the two were about to leave the parlour, a familiar touch of blonde curls could be spotted. 

“Hermione, why the fuck is he still here?” She was storming towards them, the heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. She turned her eyes onto her. “You said he would leave by midnight.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. Kowalski was picking a fight with the wrong wizard. 

“Oh,” Hermione giggled.” Both of you are sooo serious. Lizzy and Tommy, lighten it up a bit! Besides, I like Tommy here and he likes me. Thought sometimes--”

“He likes you?” Kowalski scoffed. “ Don’t go with him, Hermione. He cannot be trusted! Riddle is the last person I’d expect to like you.” She turned to him with a piercing glare, “I don’t know what your game is, but you’d better leave Hermoine alone!”

“What do you mean?” Hermione slurred, leaning onto Tom’s arm and forestalling him cursing the witch into oblivion. He felt her rubbing at his arm, her cognac eyes looking back at his. “ A muggleborn like me? Blood… does not mean...anything… to Tom and I.”

And the airhead blonde could not think of a better way to attack him? Blood status? It was a wrong route for her to take, especially in the political climate they were living under. 

“He’s nice.” She admitted. “I like Tommy.”

Nice? Tom Riddle was not nice! Tom Riddle was mean, sexy and the alpha! A part of his brain seethed, until it was bopped by the part that loved Hermoine. They say the drunk say the truth, Tom was not one to believe in urban myths, however this moment was an exception for he believed the sincerity of Hermione’s words.

“Really? This man will hurt you. Believe me.” She glared at Tom. “He will hurt you, Hermione.”

Tom scoffed to himself. Hermione was his possession. He would never hurt anything that belonged to him. What did the silly blonde know? Kowalski’s calling in life was wasting her poor husband’s money in shops. She should have kept her mouth shut, she should have ran far far away from him when he stepped into the cafe where he met Hermione’s inner circle. Images of bloody rampage ran through his head in the moment, a wide smile crept on his face-a sturdy piece of woody bat, chains that hung the body like a pig open for slaughter, a hot knife to cut through the pink rubbery pink linguo. He could imagine every possible way to do her off, Kowalski was near the edge of the cliff and he was approaching from the back with his hands. 

“I should have never let you stay with him,” She sneered, throwing her hands in the air. “I was right! Tom riddle is a fucking monster.”

That was what his father said to him. He could still see himself smiling. 

“Look at what he has done to you, all curled around his little finger.” Her finger was now jabbing at his witch. A flash of twisted ligament passed his narrowed eyes. 

Hermione was a smart witch, she would never fall to the Kowalski’s failed attempts to fracture their relationship. The airhead obviously had no experience talking to people.

“I don’t care, you don’t get to dictate my life Kowalski.” The smile on his witch’s face had turned into a deep scowl. Hermione hissed. “I like Tommy and he likes me!”

“Fuck you, the only thing he wants from you Hermione is to get his cock all nice and wet. Don’t be delusional, he doesn’t like you- he’s using you! Didn’t Galton and you just break up? Hopping onto another wizard, aren’t you? Are you going to become his personal mudblood whore--” A flash of flesh, loud as a clap. With a red welt forming from the smack, the blonde stumbled behind, clutching her cheek as she stared at her. Hermione gave her a glare as Tom hid a smirk. 

“I don’t need your protection, Elizaveta Mildred Kowalski.” Hermione sniffled. “ What’s with the sudden bigotry? I expected more from my best friend. Tommy is a nice man and he has been so kind to me. You have no right calling me those things. Leave me and Tommy along. Besides, I like his company. So stay away from me and get out of my way.”

“Hermione--” The blonde attempted to hold onto the brunette. Faces around the parlour were watching them.

“Bye.” The brunette pulled his arm and said. “ Let’s go, Tommy.”

At the same time, she stumbled and fell into his chest. Letting out a sigh, he lifted her over his shoulder, sending a soft squeak from her. 

“If you do anything to her, I’ll hurt you.” A voice came from behind, just as they were finally going to pass through that darned door. Kolwalski’s.

His legs moved, he said casually as his arm tightened his hold over her waist. He resisted the urge to mock her. The people were watching. “I won’t hurt her, despite what you think. Take care of yourself, Kolwalski.” There was no reply. Walking away, the faint sounds of loud jazz echoed throughout the icy hallway.

“Mhm, Tommy?” The brunette perked her head up. “ Where are we going?”

“Home.” He told her. “Are you feeling cold? I could place another warming charm on you.”

“No,” she said after thinking with a frown. “Tommy?”

“Yes, my sweetheart?” He would call her that, from now on. She needed to know. 

“Why… do you like me?” She hiccuped. “I’m no beautiful witch.”

Did he need to repeat himself twice to her? He had to thank Black for ruining the night with her nasty poems of consumption and body figure. He whispered, “Au contraire…” 

A blurt comes out from her, “I think I like you, Tommy. I like you a lot more than you think I do.”

Those words were simple. So Hermione liked him. His witch liked him! He felt like a schoolboy now, his hormones raging. He was speechless, another word did not come out from him. What should he do? Say? After these months of persistent hard work, did it finally work? For the rest of the walking journey to the apparition point, he stayed silent, never forgetting the warmness of her mouth fanning against his neck. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


The wireless was blasting when he had stepped back into the cold confinements of his flat, the brunette was slung over his shoulder. Loud yells from the hooligans on the street complimented his nightly background. He kicked against the wooden door as it opened to welcome the couple. Magicking it to shut along with turning the radio off, over his shoulder rested a restless Hermione. A very restless one. During their slow walk towards the shabby flats rested in Hackney, she was attempting to engage Tom in a conversation regarding uses of magic. “ H-honestly though, does three wands h-welp a....hiccup! weh-wi-lard..to better convey his...hiccup!...magiccc?”

Obviously it did, but Tom did not want to tell her the repercussions of her drunken idea. Moreover, he rather liked hearing her soft mellowy voice without being taken over by his. He kept his mouth shut, smiling slightly as her soft body bounced against the cuff of his shoulder.

If he did not have magic, he swore he could have not made it back into his flat with her. She was right about the outrageous number of floors, though. He sighed, sooner or not he would move, he would find a way. Perhaps in the near future, he and Hermione could find a bigger accommodation where they could start a home of their own. 

The party had been a mistake, if he could turn back the clock- he would definitely would to prevent his witch from damaging the frail artificial reputation she had built up. Her reputation meant his. However, the eyes that had witnessed the whole Kowalski Hermione fiasco were not of much significance anyway, that was comforting for him to know. The time wasted at the pathetic circus based on detestable glamour and the concept of ‘ friends, could have been spent with him. All Tom wanted now was a good night’s sleep for his witch, she needed it. 

He did not see himself doing anything else intimate with his witch that night, she had outrightly rejected at the beginning of the party. That almost kiss. Her earlier admittance to favouring him could be taken with a pinch of salt, her muddled brain was not able to decipher between fiction and reality. His heart had dropped many levels, Tom was determined though to convince her otherwise but that was for the days to come for her and him. However, when his arms were slipping her lithe body onto the plain sheets, the brunette acted on her own accord.

“Sta--Hermione, what--” The presence of her soft lips planted on his, caught Tom off guard. Her hands pulled him closer. He had missed this, oh he could not process the thoughts that were running through his head. He could not resist this sweet treat he was addicted to. Their arms moved up and down each other, his body loosened and he leaned in deeper, wanting to lose himself in all of her glory and awaiting pleasurable senses. His hard covered appendage brushes up and down her front. However a loud reminder jolts him awake, he twists himself away from her petite form, leaving behind a frowning witch. 

“W-what’s w-wrong hiccup! Tommy…? D-don’t...hiccup!you l-like me?” She slurred, the look of joy from her face was completely wiped off and was replaced with an unreadable expression. She continued, questioning him in between her alcohol fueled jargon. “ I-is it because...hiccup! I-i’m a m-mudblood?...”

Her voice was frail, lingering fear. What did she want to hear? That she was not tainted? But he did not say that, for what she had spouted was not the truth. The truth was rather rare in Tom’s nature. Hermione was afterall the only mudblood he had not thought of harming, rather protecting and frankly, it scared him. 

“You’re drunk, out of your mind. Hermione.” He told her firmly, brushing her curls away that was covering her face. “ Get some sleep, I’ll prepare some dreamless sleep and water for you.”

The witch who was slung against the pillows, frowned deeply before spluttering. “ No!”

Walking away from her, Tom left for the kitchen. Truthfully he could have used a summoning spell, but he needed some space and time to think. A drunk Hermione. A cock that was increasingly growing hard. Did not bid any good repercussions.

Their first kiss was an unforgettable experience, it truly was. Ever since it happened whenever Tom had a lunch break, he would huddle over to the toilet, sit down, pull down his trousers and cock. He would fist it. His eyes would shut as memories washed over him with her warm lips and soft hands that grazed his body, wishing for more instead of innocent kisses and touches. When he left, his cock was still not satisfied. Just thinking about his Hermione routine had started to arouse him even more. Tom sighed, he hated this, how this mudblood witch reigned so much control over him. He was tempted to ask her if she had slipped him a strong love potion before. His fingers brushed through his dark locks agitatedly. “S-salazar’s balls!”

What was he to do upon returning? Did he want to truly take what was his from the start, at that moment? Well, now he did it. His witch wanted him, his desire all along. Tom wanted to fly near the sun, now his wings had melted, he was falling into the ocean where he was to drown. But the ocean did sound inviting though, clear waters with turquoise bubbles, brimming with life. It was vast, unexplored. He wondered beneath the murkiness of it, what surprises did it hold?

Shaking himself from his incessant thoughts, Tom summoned the potion and a glass of water. He sauntered back into the living room, turning his back to her. He did not want to face Hermione now, for all he wanted was to push the brunette onto the mattress and ravish her. Control. She was drunk and he was sober. Their first time needed to be something special, not a sweaty romp from two randy people. He hears the soft sips of water and throaty sounds of swallowing. 

As he took off his cufflinks, another rustling sound caught his attention. When he turned back around, his eyes bulged. She was quickly divesting her clothes off, the silver robes on the floor and heels tossed to the corner. The tiny bottle laid abandoned on the nightstand while her hips were humping eagerly against the white sheets, between her lips rolled out moans . “ Tom…”

  
  


“Hermione? What are you doing?” He exclaimed as her languid movements slowed down, she stared at him with a sultry look on her face. Laying in the bed with a bra in his house colours and the white knickers from earlier, she giggled. “ Mhm I love it when you try and act so oblivious with me. You are so adorable when you do that, Tommy.”

His eyes darkened, taking in what was happening in front of his eyes. This could not be real. He swore Hermione would have been a Gryffindor if she had been a student at Hogwarts because this was a brave move she was making. The green set of lace encasing around her firm breasts was begging to be torn off, along with the angelic knickers covering the treasure. 

She bit her lip, staring at him innocently. “Tom, I want you to shag me. “

“What?” His witch wanted to do what? Blood was rushing through his veins, his heart thumping hard. He had dreamt about this for months. Seen it enacted out in his waking dreams, when his curved fingers were rubbing up and down his hard shaft, the curly haired witch was smiling with her small hands fisting it instead. 

“Shag. Fuck. Love making.” She continued, giggling. “ I know you want it, Tom. I caught you staring at my knickers earlier today.” 

He should have packed up and ran for the hills. No wonder she had been acting so strangely the entire night, perhaps next time he should be more discreet about it. 

“But I can’t.” He stammered. “You’re drunk, you have no idea what you’re asking from me. Hermione, I’m not a nice man when it comes to the activities in the bedroom, I don't think you would like what I would do to you.”

Oh this was bad, this was so bad because he did not expect this stage of their relationship to arrive so quickly. Well yes, he had seen this scene in his head a million times but --- salazar, the things he would act to this half naked mudblood laying on his bed. 

“ Oh Tom, aren’t you a wizard?” She slurred, laughing slightly “ Besides, I like it rough-- what do they call it? I don’t know- I’ll be your slave and you’ll be my master! Just fuck me, Tom. Shag me till this bed breaks!”

He forgot that part, amidst his earlier panicking. Immediately his magic got to work on the brunette, she opened her eyes again but still the smirk remained on her face. “ Sober now and I still want you to fuck--”

This was the last straw, Tom immediately pounced on the witch. She let out guttural moans as he pressed his lips against her. He missed this, he missed her lips so much, he was sinking into it. She said she wanted to be his slave? Well now he was her master, she needed to know her _place._ Placing harsh kisses against her nape, his fingers traced against the lace covered nipples which released squeaks from her. “ Yes, Tom! Yes!”

“Oh Hermione.” He moaned before suckling at the sensitive spot located under her ear. “ You feel so g-great.”

“Tom!Tom!Tom!” She squealed as he nipped down on her neck, staining it with marks he was sure would turn a bright purple for him tomorrow. He liked it a lot, Hermione was his property after all. 

His fingers ripped apart the lace covering her tits and he plastered a rough kiss on her lips, sending another giggle from her. He would start with those breasts first. Her nipples pebbled in the cold air, areolas dusty pink as he had seen from their first meeting. Fuck, he was finally touching her. She was not a ghost, not a fantasy, she was real. The witch he met in Borgins. He kisses her once more. Yes, it was Hermione. His Hermione.

  
  


Lips brushing up her smooth skin, he laced them onto the firm nipples that had stood out. His hands periodically cupped and pressed them together. They were a perfect fit. He nipped at the sensitive pink nipple, tasting cherries from the body wash she used. A soft gasp comes from her, breasts heaving up and down. 

He would play with her. A cat and mouse game. Pinching her nipples, Tom whispered. “ Do you want my cock in your pussy?”

“Answer me, Hermione.” Another pinch at her right nipple.

“Your cock belongs in my pussy, Tom.” She beamed. “ Fuck me in anyway you want to.” 

Tom let out a roar, hearing that. His lips ran down her chest, nipping and leaving tiny bites behind. She was his, he needed to mark it. He felt extremely proud, his nips around her navel read: MINE. She would love it when she looked at her body in the mirror the morning after.

“Spread your legs for me, darling.” He commanded. “Take off those knickers.”  
  


The lace slung to the corner of the room, her thighs moved apart with a voluntary moan. “Fuck me, Tom!”

“Let’s see how wet you are for me, sweetness.” Tom whispered as he approached the apex between her milky thighs. He let out a groan, it was even better than he had expected- those pink folds he had seen from the window, those dancing images from Galton’s flat, they were glistening for him. 

“You’re wet.” The words rolled from his tongue simply. 

Hermione let out another giggle, giving him another sly look. “All for you, Tom. I was wet the entire time we were at Lucretia’s.”

“You are killing me, witch.” Resting above her cunt was a trimmed patch of brown curls, something he appreciated as it made her feel more real rather the plain janes he used to fuck. He groaned before diving straight to the feast. How did he manage to control himself and not pull up her robe during the event? 

A soft contemplative lick at her bud, immediately made her thrust up her hips. So sensitive to his touch. She was meant for him. Her body responded only to his touch. He bet Scamander never made his witch feel this way. He would do better than those sleazy wizards she had slept around with. Hermione would only remember him, after this!

Her juices ran down his chin as his meaty tongue licked and sucked at the darkened labia, his fingers prying her folds apart alike to a precious rose blossoming. It tasted tangy with a hint of honey sweetness, he was addicted. He never wanted anything more to drink up the juices that were currently dripping down her folds. Her hips thrust and budge with his head between her legs, a fitting position he never expected himself to never leave. Her fingers run through his dark locks, encouraging him with her moans, pushing his mouth deeper into the pink delicacy. 

His thumb rubs circles onto the begotten precious pearl that was protruding out, the first graze of it sends her into a frenzy as she moaned out his name loud.” Tom!”

Hearing that his cock stiffened, he wanted more. He wanted her to scream his name with those pretty lips. Her legs were caging his head in between her soft kissed thighs, he never wanted to leave his pink treasure. 

Soft mews came from her as he licked her from her wet folds to the forbidden puckered hole settled below it, her fingers were pulling his locks closer to her. Dripping from her was juices that were so distinctively Hermione, a sweet honey like how imagined she would taste like. He would drink her all up. What was this oasis? Tongue swiping across his lips tasting the familiar honey, a finger stroke against her weeping pussy to maintain the moans from her. 

He releases his tongue from her folds as Hermione waggled her tongue at him before breathing her finger periodically between her lips. Tom’s eyes darkened. She sucked on it, never leaving his eyes. Oh that deviant witch, he would show her. But not now, Salazar his cock was leaking. He needed to be inside her.

Her fingers unbuckled the belt, shoving down the underclothes. 

A few strokes and a look from Hermione, he was ready. Positioning his tip at her cunt, he slid it upon and down. Hearing the slick noises of their combined fluids mixing together, Tom bit his lip. The brunette’s curly locks were sticking to her face, her pink lips opened in a small o, the rosiness of her cheeks had spread to the front of her breasts. The look of heaven on her pretty face. She mewled continuously as his cock travelled her folds. “Please, please, please.”

Fuck, he could not take this any longer. Her soft breasts bounced as he buried himself to the hilt, her cunt walls immediately grasping tightly onto his hard sensitive cock. The obscene sounds of his cock entering her cunt needed to be played on the wireless continuously. Tom let out. “ Hermione!”  
  
“Harder, Tom!” She encouraged him. “ Your cock belongs in my pussy.”

Tom moaned, he did not want to leave her hot little cunt and it felt the same too because it was currently pulling hard on his tip. They fitted perfectly. He stayed, staring into those whiskey eyes before kissing her lips. They molded each other, his fingers running through those once neat curls, tossing them up into a frizzy mess. 

“O-OK,” Sweat was dripping down his face as he gripped her thighs so tightly that they would leave behind bruises. His cock slid out of her cunt, only the purple head remaining. The hardened velvet stretched the awaiting pink hole that accommodated the girthy thickness and length. Her arousal soaked the shaft. The smack of his balls against her cunt would play on his head over and over again. 

Here he went again, Tom was biting hard on his tongue. His swollen cock was throbbing as he pulled out a few inches more. Out and in. Balls hit cunt. Alright… what should he do now? Fuck, his balls were tingling. Pull out....slowly… no! Pressure had built up, it was stiffening. To the tip once more… bright light hit him as his hips jerked into hers, sending gasps from her. 

Groaning, “Fuck!” Warmness came out of him, he had counted it… seven seconds, seven fucking seconds! Not even three thrusts in, he had already come before her. Salazar’s balls, this could not be happening! 

His cock was softening as it slid out of her cunt. He wanted to watch his seed drip down out of it, down her thighs. But he could not bring himself to. It was another reminder of his failure. His body slumped over to the other side of the bed. 

“Um.” Came out of her mouth.

Her fingers reached periodically under the sheets to touch herself as Tom watched the ceiling silently, biting his lip. In his mind held loud and angry thoughts: How could he be weak? How could he lose control? Most of all, losing control in front of his witch? He barely lasted seven seconds into his thrusting. Fuck, he was even worse than Scamander and that was saying something. This was their first time and he could not even last before her? He fucked it up. What could he even say to make up for this? He wished he could penetrate himself not into her body but into her mind again. To see how horrific her inner thoughts were about his specular performance in bed.

It was a major turning point in them. Hermione and him. But will she be able to bring herself to offer her body to him again after his supposedly brilliant bedroom performance? He bet not. He wanted to obliviate her. His thoughts was racing, chest constricting, he could not breath.

Shooting up the bed, he slipped on his clothes, never once looking back at her. 

Tom needed a drink. Fast. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? Don't be a silent reader!! Anyways expect more drama in the upcoming chapters lol.
> 
> love,  
> liz


	10. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of their 'coupling', Tom meets an old crone and he visits his uncle's cabin once more. What exactly happened to men who were with his witch? One wouldn't want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dead dove stuff here and lil bit of fluff. Obviously inspired by Hannibal in this chapter. Also, woohooo it's this fic's 4th month anniversary today!

The brown whiskey slid down his throat, leaving behind a burning sensation as he let out a thundering groan alike to Hagri— no… _half being_ he remembered blaming the whole Myrtle incident on. It was not his mistake, it was an accident. Besides, it was Hagrid—no! _Half being’s fault!_

It had been hours since their first ever ‘ coupling’ as Tom dubbed it, he refused to call it any other than that. Love making? He liked Hermione but he definitely did not love her. Moreover, Tom does not _love._ His head felt as if someone had managed to cast the cruciatus curse on him several times, a good one at that. Perhaps it was the several glasses or the empty bottles left lingering on the shabby table that he nested his aching arms on. 

Slamming down the glass down, he let out another bellowing sigh while his fingers ran through his once perfectly styled hair that was dishevelled from his witch’s nimble touches.

Hermione. Oh Hermione. What would he say? It was not his fault, afterall. It was a mistake, an accident. Grunting, Tom tugged on the roots of his dark locks. When his eyes closed, all he could see was the look on her face. The disappointment he had been. Well perhaps, it was her fault. How dare she bewitch him? How dare she make him less than a wizard, unable...to last not more than a minute! His bedroom skills were not that horrid, mind you the many witches who found their position on his bed could attest to that. And most of all, a mudblood who managed to do this to him!

Panting, he let out a breathy murmur. “ What have I done to myself?”

Perhaps it was a mistake that he had let himself go and get entwined into the world of a mudblood. Would she even look at him in the eye, once he returned? Would she even want him anymore, the charismatic wizard that many have chased after? Tom could not afford to have such a humiliating experience anymore, either she was in it with him or Hermione Granger will be soon found crawling on the streets without a home. 

Suddenly a thought from the back of his mind crawled back, he immediately stood up, hit himself with a good old sober spell and grabbed his trench coat. How could he have so easily forgotten? 

The frigid wind of the lone Knockturn Alley hit him as he pushed open the worn door. Inhaling, Tom moved quickly on his feet. The apparition point was about a kilometre away and time was ticking. His earlier encounter with his mudblood witch had already added a slash to his list of sins, he did not need anymore unnecessary mistakes. Everything had to be perfect. 

“Fucking Salzaar.” He murmured absentmindedly under his breath, the sound of his boots reverberating throughout the dark street. 

“That isn’t a nice statement to say.” 

His movements paused, he could hear his heart rapidly beating against his chest.

“Don’t you agree, young man?”

Well, he was the heir of the great wizard himself. Tom can call him however he damn well pleases.

His mouth barely moved, except to pull up into a smile. Was this his appetiser before the feast?

“Sir, are you alright there?” The raspy voice called out from behind. Tom’s movements stopped as he said slowly under his breath.” Yes, I am fine.”

“Well, I don’t think you are.” The woman said as he slowly turned around, his fingers slipping into the opened slit on his coat. She continued. “ Why don’t you sit down with me and we’ll have a talk?”

“There’s no need for that,” As his blurred gaze focused onto the hunched over figure of the crone. She gave him a smile that sent shivers down his spine. Rags that were tattered beyond a repairing spell, skin wrinkled to the bone and a face gaunt from both malnourishment and age. “ Tarot card reading?”

She gestured towards the tiny table huddled over at the corner of the alley, putting on a toothy grin that was a disgusting sight Tom did not have to see. His rough fingertips brushed against the familiar yew material of his wand as he nodded.

“Now,” The old witch waddled over behind the table as Tom stood firmly rooted to the ground, refusing to budge.

“Sit,” Her skeletal fingers waved as he narrowed his eyes at her. Just about he was to find himself speaking his signature _crucio_ spell, he found himself silenced and a chair wandlessly forced under his bum with a sticking charm. A frown appeared on his face as he attempted to break off the numerous spells placed onto him. 

“There’s no use fighting,” She laughed as she took a seat in front of a fidgeting Tom. “ Anyway, I mean no harm to you, Mister Tom Marvolo Riddle. There’s no need to worry.”

His lips parted as he raised an eyebrow. This old wretch knew him? If she did, she would know better to leave him alone. Such insolence, indeed! He had many creative ideas on what he could do with her, once he managed to break off these pesky spells. 

“I wish to help you, _Lord Voldemort._ ” The woman smiled, while Tom narrowed his eyes.

* * *

The sky had turned into a shade of blue with streaks of fluoride orange running across it. Birds chirping furiously in tune to their early mating calls. Tom groaned loudly as his vision attempted to focus. Sitting up, he shook his head as visions of the early morning visit with the old crone had returned. Where was he?

His question was quickly answered when he realised he was laying on a path that watched the manor on the hill. It had been two years since _that._ His eyes looked down onto his hands. The windows had been boarded up, the monthly tile maintenance now forgotten with his inheritance of the place. Tom hastily got up and took off from the place, never looking back.

How did she know? His mind was perfectly shielded up during the reading, he was sure. However, sending him to the remnants of his pathetic muggle family’s home did not improve his irritable mood for that morning.

Coat whipping through the air, he pushed away the impending heavy memories of his family. Tom did not need them. Tom hated them. Tom killed them. And they? They deserved every bit of what he gave them. So why should he feel anything but resentment towards them? The apparition point was just beside the woods and the manor was nowhere near it.

His muddy boots brushed against the creaky wood planks of the shack. The distinct odour of metallic iron and bodily releases met his nostrils. He revelled in it. When Uncle Morfin had been sent away on a cart towards Azkaban, Tom had attempted to repair the place. Afterall, it was his ancestral home. It deserved some form of respect that his Uncle lacked. However, no matter how much effort he went into salvaging the site, it always ended up in the disarray his Uncle had left it in. Perhaps it could be attributed to the activities he was currently hosting there. Blood sports, that is.

It had been three cold months since Galton Scamander was last seen by his friends and family. One wonders where could he be? Could the Scamander wizard have simply packed up his bags and left for a Southern Belle? That was believable for many who were close to him, for he had a habit of fraternising with pretty witches who liked what laid heavy in his pockets. Or simply, the useless wizard had gotten his just desserts. 

Similarly could be applied to the fellow named Marcus Warrington. A walking nepotistic neanderthal who played quidditch. How much of a pureblood brat could this creature hold? How could he have possibly disappeared without a fight, considering his grand height and absurd amount of...muscles? Well one, Tom was not a small wizard either and two, he had a functioning brain. Warrington needed to be taught a lesson. He had remembered Warrington sullying his Hermione in that inn. Insulting her. Hurting her. That meant Tom was not lenient on his punishments, of course.

However, it was not Tom that was hurting him, it was Galton himself. Oh, who could have seen this coming?

Time was ticking, Tom needed him to hurry up.

Fingers that were once rolling up sleeves of powdered cocaine were now stained with dark crimson. Those digits were shaking, wonders it was that Galton had still managed to hold onto the blade.

“Still working your way through?” Tom asked inquisdically, the shrill sounds coming from the squirming body that rested under Scamander’s shaking limbs. 

“It has been two days, Scamander.” He hissed, watching over the pair while ignoring the muffled moans from the corner of the room. Crossing his arms, he said, “ We agreed on--”

“I’m sorry my Lord, I-I...give me some time!” The man pleaded whilst attempting to dig deeper across the muscled navel, releasing inhumane gurgles from the blonde wizard. Once known as Marcus Warrington, was now a piece of breathing meat. Purple bruises and bloodied lacerations. With Tom’s old medical textbooks, he had conducted several useful operations on the man. His blood replenishing spells had done well to keep him long alive for his amusement. The man was not so snippy now, was he?

What were wordy moans to be spared from such cruelty had turned into unrecognisable howls. Under Tom’s instruction, Galton had become an apprentice in surgery. His meaty tongue and larynx cut out crudely, Tom could finally rest well that the neanderthal would not continue with his pretentious buff tattle and harass his Hermione. However, that did not mean there were no consequences for what the Scamander ‘wizard’ had participated in for the past few months. 

Some may assume that the imperius curse is the only path to persuading someone, to which Tom may refute with his little experiment on Galton. Small pinches of his favourite cocaine may say otherwise. 

“ Do it now,” Tom sneered, his face scrunching up in disgust.” Or you won’t get your fix anytime soon, Scamander.”

The man quivered and nodded shakingly. “Y-yes...I’ll get to it…”

His fingers tugged on the knife and slid it quickly across the naked skin, blood quickly trickling out from the horizontal edges. Across the ripples of abdominal muscle, the cut was perfect. When Scamander had started to pry apart the skin, Tom found himself walking away to the forgotten corner of the room. Scamander would do anything to get his fix, he would be able to do this one simple task. 

The wizard’s withdrawal syndromes overwhelmed his need to fight, instead of flight. Tom was glad that Galton had quickly recognised that fact and started accepting the life presented to him in this cottage. 

  
  


Hidden away in the dark dampness was quite a sight, Tom smiled to himself. Head Auror by day, a perverted child predator by whenever time suited him. Joseph Prewett’s distinct red hair had fallen by patches, his once icy blue eyes that had swelled into orbits of black with one eyelid limply shut. There was no face to be seen, Joseph himself managed to feed himself that, instead of the pig Tom had transfigurated from a rotten apple days ago. Truly a narcissist of his world, he shook his head. 

The creature let out a moan,” Let me out… I won’t tell anyone, I promise…”

“Oh,” Tom said curiously, raising an eyebrow.” I don’t seem to remember having you here. Who are you?”

Sometimes playing with one’s food was needed to appreciate the meal. 

“ Do-don’t you?” What came out were muffled words that were barely comprehendible. “ Your little curse, my own fingernails, in this...caboose.”

“ Started with the chin to the forehead. Tossed my nose to the pink hog. Two sets, upper and down. Forty four molars pulled. Has this jogged your memory yet or have I not said enough?” 

Tom let out an airy chuckle as he narrowed his eyes at it. Their earlier roleplay session had finally broken down most of its ego. Well, there was still a bit of a fighting spirit in it and he was sure going to break it down this very day. The creature was obsessed with asphyxiation, he had found out. Turns out that was what turns on this _thing_ and was what it and these little girls no less than the age of thirteen, were participating in. 

Neck broken, vitals still intact, paralysed from the neck down. It was a slow death for the ex Head Auror, with more to come for him. 

However it was his civil duty, Tom would do it well to make sure Joseph Prewett lived in hell as long as he lived. The children would thank him. The potential victims that he saved from this sickening monster would thank him. _Hermione_ would thank him.

“No, I don’t.” Tom breathed before looking the monster in the eye. “ Where is your conscience? How do you like the girls? All youthful and innocent. Did you enjoy breaking them? Taking away their childhoods away--”

“They were willing--” The creature attempted to gasp out.

“ That’s what I hear from creatures like you, all the time. “ A sinister smile creeps up onto his face as he approaches the immobilised creature with open arms. “But time’s up, you crossed the line. My witch was the line. You shouldn’t have even laid a single finger on her in that bar.”

“She was willing--” It let out.

“She was not,” Tom sneered, looking him at eye level. “ What gets you off them, huh? The girls? Their developing tits? Prepubescent bodies? Let’s be straightforward here, you are sick and you need help. “

Saying that, Tom stared into those expressionless eyes as its lipless mouth wavered. He grinned as the creature whimpered, “ Now, what shall I do with you for today?”

  
  


* * *

It was barely half past ten when Tom had returned from his journey to his Uncle’s Cabin. He had not expected much, except for the usual sulking Hermione who would push him away once more after his failed attempt in the bedroom. Letting out a sigh, Tom continued walking towards the aged block of flats. 

A figure in freshly pressed robes of black with an aged cloche hat, catches his attention. She had seemed anxious from the constant turns of her head. It was obvious that Porpentina Goldstein did not want anyone knowing of her whereabouts.

_You see, Hermione. It was then I realised why the Scamander brat’s motherly figure had decided to embrace our doorstep._ Tom nearly stabbed himself with his wand when the thought had surfaced. His long legs immediately strode across the gravel swiftly. _And I needed to protect you._

Gazing up the spirals of staircases that awaited him, he let out a sigh before placing a silencing and invisibility charm on himself. If Goldstein wanted to play detective, he would play the same role as her too.

  
  


When he had reached the last few steps approaching his flat, he stayed and listened. 

“Are you sure, Miss Granger?” The woman questioned.

His witch’s familiar soothing voice replied in a sarcastic tone.” I’m very sure that Galton has not approached me since the dinner on the seventeenth of September. Furthermore, I’m sure he has been honest with you and Mr Scamander about his little forever trip to Spain.”

“Spain? To Spain?” Goldstein asked.” Why would he immigrate to Spain--”

“Well, the truth’s obvious, isn’t it?” Hermione said, annoyed. She sneered, “ He cheated on me with another witch and eloped with her. How romantic.”

“Lies, my Galton would not never do to anyone, even to you!” The woman gasped before angrily replying. “ Tell me the truth, where is my son?”

“I’m not lying.” Hermione replied agitatedly.” Listen Miss Goldstein, but I love Galton and I still do. Him cheating on me and being supposedly missing does not equal to me being his murderer. I love Galton and I would never want to hurt him.”

Tom felt his heart tug at the last few words. _I love Galton._

“It’s Mrs Scamander, to you. Miss Granger.” Goldstein snapped. “ I don’t believe you. Where is my son?”

“I don’t know, I’m telling you!” Hermione’s volume had started to rise. “Look, I would tell you any information that would confirm Galton’s safety, Mrs Scamander.”

“ Where’s the letter then?”

Tom’s heart started to thump faster. Hermione would not. She would have thrown it away.

“I burnt it.” Was her reply. He let out a soft sigh of relief. _That was a close one,_ he told himself. Tom listened on, intending to cut in later. If she needed him, he would be there. 

“ The things you blurt from your mouth, Miss Granger.” Goldstein said, gesturing in the air. “ They are lies. Come on, don’t you think anybody here hasn’t wondered why you don’t have a proper job at the ministry?”

“ I’ll be honest with you,” The woman laughed. “ A gold digger, I see you’ve moved on quite quickly from my son. A liar. And now an illegal immigrant? Or are you even Hermione Granger? Do you exist? I’ve searched you up. No school records. Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons or even Ilvermony. Now don’t fool me, how does a worm like you slip through the system? No birth records, muggle or not. Who are your parents? We all don’t know. All I know is that you are nothing more than a fraud.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. He wanted to know everything about Hermione, his witch. Now it was time for the truth. What would she attempt to say?  
  


“I’m not a gold digger,” Hermione hissed. “ How dare you. I was born in New York to two loving muggle parents and that is all you need to know. I’m not a fraud.”

It was a weak reply, a definite lie, he had suspected from the beginning. However he did not want to see Hermione and Goldstein’s argument worsen, for it seemed the aged woman was ready to give his witch a good old slap. 

“Don’t lie to me,” The woman curled her lip. “ It’s the law to never lie--”

Tom started to jog back up the flight of stairs, free of charms. The dark haired wizard pretended to be surprised. “Hello, good morning. Who’s this, Hermione?”

The pair of heads stopped talking, their heads turning to face him. His witch slowly walked out, her arms crossed. She whispered, “Tom?”

Hearing his name on her lips was delicious, he had to admit. However what was distasteful was the situation his witch was stuck in right now.

“Oh, I see this is your new...landlord.” The woman coughed uncomfortably before looking at Tom. “ I’m Head auror Porpentina Goldstein. Your…tenant is being questioned for a case, do you mind?”

“He’s my partner,” Hermione cut in before Tom could reply. “ We want to spend our morning for breakfast. Could you come back another time, Mrs Scamander?”

Partner? When were they ever in a proper relationship? Was she being serious? Tom wondered to himself before adding on.” Yes, I’m so sorry to trouble you Mrs Scamander but we wish to have some privacy for ourselves today. Could you come back another day? “

The woman’s frown immediately turned into a bright smile, looking him up and down.” Oh sure!”

Point one to his father, having looks seemed to win in most sticky situations he found himself in. 

“Mr Riddle,” Tom took the wrinkled hand of the woman and placed a soft kiss onto it. He raised his eyes.” Nice to meet you.”

At the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione frowning. Chuckling internally to himself, Hermione need not worry of his attention being taken away from her. She would always be the centre of his universe, always.

  
  
  


“I suppose I’ll visit Miss Granger another day,” Goldstein sighed before facing Hermione, frowning.” I’ll be watching you.”

Excuse her, Tom could very well watch Hermione well himself! Had Goldstein become alike to the meddlesome old fool Dumbledore? Perhaps this was where the brat had learnt his voyeuristic habits from. 

“See you, Mr Riddle.” Goldstein smiled at him, waving. “ Have a nice day.”

_Have a nice day ahead of you too,_ Tom thought to himself agitatedly before bracing a smile. “ Thank you, Mrs Scamander.”

Once the woman’s heavy footsteps had receded down the stairwell, Tom shut the door firmly. 

His witch was taking off her robe as a million images flashed through his mind, that very moment. However, she still had on a simple white blouse that was oversized for her petite figure. His shirt. 

Tom only realised he was staring when Hermione started talking, “ I’m sorry, Tom. I could not find a clean shirt I could wear and well, I didn’t want to be walking around your flat naked all day--”

While tuning out her mindless rambling about cleaning spells and boring laundry talk, Tom's thoughts ran wild. He would definitely prefer his witch in the nude, sauntering around his home. Should he tell her that?

Her cheeks held a tinge of pink.” I promise I’ll clean it and return it to you by tonight.”

“No, it’s fine.” Tom replied casually. “ You can keep it, if you want, Hermione.”

The brunette paused before smiling. “ Well, thank you for that!”

Tom's thoughts had returned to the tarot reading. Could the old crone be right? That this witch was not meant for him? 

_“ The witch in your life,” She whispered. “ She isn’t who you think she is.”_

_“Leave her, she will destroy you.”_

He had spent months chasing after his witch, did he truly want to throw in the towel? Divination had been an obsession of his, ever since coming across the Book Of The Dead in Malfoy’s library in fourth year. But one tarot reading from a particularly conspicuous old fool able to dissuade him from pursuing Hermione? 

“Where have you been for the entire night, Tom?” She crossed her arms.” I was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Tom smiled.” I’ve been thinking and well, whiskey helps that too.”

She frowned. 

Hermione started walking towards him, she said slowly. “ Tom...about yesterday, it’s alright.”

Should he push her away? 

“It was our first time after all.” She said apologetically. ” We all make mistakes.”

He should tell her. Leave, Hermione, now. 

“Even though it was quite a flop, in my opinion, it made me realise that I want more.”

But kicking her out was cruel, he cared for her- she would be worse off on the streets!

“So Tom, all I’m asking is.” She was standing in front of him, her fingers had caught onto his shirt, wrinkling it. “ For a repeat performance.”

Could he truly trust this witch though? Her earlier reply to her background was truly the worst of lies he had ever seen. 

“ We will work on it.” Hermione smiled.” The sexual part of our relationship, I think now we’re past that awkward stage of friendship, right Tom?”

Suddenly he brushed her hands off him, Tom said.” I’m sorry, Hermione. I don’t think we’re ready yet. Maybe we are. But I wish to be sure when I’m in a relationship with you. Are you willing to wait for me, though?

He needed to know more about her. A voice at the back of his head called him out for being a fool and not utilising the potentials of a relationship. But after all, this was going to be his first proper relationship with a witch and it would be his last. Could he really trust her? The true ambitions and secret he held? 

“Yes.” Hermione smiled before reaching up and brushing her fingers against his jaw. “ I am.”

Suppose he could trust her, what would he tell her? How three men had found themselves in a better place because of her? How he had killed his family out of cold rage? How he and Amy were close, yet she-- Time was what they needed and Tom was sure his horcruxes could provide plenty of that to Hermione and himself.

“Tom, do you want some chocolate cookies? I’ve baked some this morning.” She called out from the kitchen,breaking him off his thoughts. The aroma of the sweet dessert wafting towards his position at the coach. 

“I’m coming!” Tom shouted, wandering towards the throttle of giggles from his witch. 

With the new year approaching soon, maybe just maybe Tom would start introducing his witch Hermione to his followers. Maybe she would get the ball rolling by calling him by his true name: _Lord Voldemort._

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the worst at updates but I'm losing readership anyway soooooo watch out for a new update this weekend?
> 
> Let me know what you think, CC and theories welcomed!
> 
> Love,  
> Liz

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: hey guys, how was the prologue? I've finally decided to write down this idea that has been bouncing around my mind for a while. And yes, this fanfiction was inspired by You. Honestly Joe Goldberg and Tom Riddle are really similar. I love them both too :) I have also been wanting to write about a story about Tom Riddle and Hermione when Tom was working at Borgin and Burke's, there aren't many out there with this time period. Furthermore, there aren't much Tomione fan fictions from Tom's perspective. His mind is certainly interesting! This is why the entire book will be from Tom's POV. If you're wondering is Hermione from the future? Yup, you're correct.
> 
> Any who this story will be updated near the end of the year. Unfortunately I've mocks coming soon so you guys have to wait. I'll be adding more stuff to this chapter when I have time. For the length of this fic, I am looking at 60-150K words. It will be worth the wait, I promise.
> 
> By the way, if you're wondering who I'm casting for Tom in this fanfiction- it's either Christian Coulson or Tom Hughes. Ugh, I can't decide. Of course, Hermione is played by Emma Watson.
> 
> Thanks and leave a review- it helps me a lot. XX annalisa


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